

















BEQUEST OF 

ALBERT ADSIT CLEMONS 
(Not available for exchange) 
























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I 













i* / 























The Smart Set 


( 


THE SMART SET 

Correspondence 

& 

Conversations 


CLYDE FITCH 

I) 

1897 


* 


CHICAGO ts* NEW YORK 
HERBERT S. STONE £* CO 



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copy 3u 


COPYRIGHT, 1897, BY 
HERBERT S. STONE & CO. 


Bequest 

Albert Adsit Clemons 
Aug. 24, 1938 
(Not available for exchange]. 



TO 

“ MUMSY” 

TO WHOM I OWE EVERYTHING FROM THE LITTLE 
BEGINNING OF MY LIFE 


NEW YORK 

1897 


t 


The Correspondence and the 
Conversations 


PAGE 

THE MAKEWAY BALL 3 

THE PLAINTIFF 4.3 

THE SUMMER 53 

THE CHILDREN 65 

MATERNITY 85 

A LETTER OF INTRODUCTION IO5 

WAGNER, 1897 I 13 

ART I 3 I 

SORROW I39 

THE THEATRE 1 49 

THE OPERA I 59 

A PERFECT DAY 1 67 

THE WESTINGTON’S BOHEMIAN DINNER 175 

187 


THE GAMBLERS 



The Makeway Ball 

Five Letters 

I. From Wm. H. Makeway 

II. From Mrs. Makeway 

III. From Miss Makeway 

IV. From a Guest 

V. From an Uninvited 





































































I 







The Smart Set 


i 

From Wm. H. Makeway to Joseph K. Make - 
way, of Denver. 

New York, Jan. 12, 189—. 
My Dear Brother: 

You did well to stay West. Would to 
God I had! Julia’s big party came off last 
night. I told her weeks ago, when she be- 
gan insinuating it, that if it must be it must 
be, of course, and that I would pay all the 
bills, but I wished it distinctly understood I 
would n’t have anything else to do with it. 
She assured me that nothing whatever would 
be expected of me. Unfortunately, she 
wasn’t the only woman with an American 
husband, and that people would understand. 
She promised me I should have a voice in the 
matter of cigars and champagne — you can 

3 


4 


THE SMART SET 


know they were all right — and I believe the 
success of the party was, in a great measure, 
due to them. 

My having “ nothing whatever to do” with 
it consisted in hearing nothing else discussed 
for days, and on the night in question hav- 
ing no room I could call my own, my bed- 
room being devoted to the men (of course 
you know that Julia and I haven’t shared 
the same room for years, not since the six 
months she spent with her married sister, 
Lady Glenwill), my own sanctum down 
stairs was turned into a smoker, and I 
was obliged to hang around in any place I 
could find, all ready for the guests a couple 
of hours before they began to arrive. Of 
course, too, she finally bulldozed me into 
helping her receive. You see, the little 
woman really was worn out, for she had over- 
seen everything. She is a wonder! There 
isn’t an English servant in New York, or 
London, either, who can teach her anything, 
altho’ our second footman happens to have 
been with the Duke of Cambridge at one 
time. Not that I care a damn about such 


THE SMART SET 


5 


things — except that the Duke is a soldier — 
but in speaking of them I get to taking Julia’s 
point of view. I helped her receive some 
of the people, to sort of give her a feeling of 
not having the whole infernal thing on her 
own shoulders. Everybody Julia wanted 
came, and a great many she did n’t want. I 
suppose out where you live you do n’t have 
to ask the people you do n’t want. Here it ’s 
much more likely you can ’t ask the people 
you do want. I have some business friends, 
first-rate fellows, with good looking, dressy 
wives, but Julia bars them every one because 
they aren’t fashionables. You ought to see 
me when Vm fashionable! The most miser- 
able specimen you ever saw. I look just like 
one of the figures in a plate in a tailor’s win- 
dow, labeled “ latest autumn fashions,” and 
I feel like one, too. 

Julia looked stunning ! By Jove ! she 
was the handsomest woman there. There 
isn’t another in New York anywhere near her 
age who can touch her. They say every one 
asked about her in London when she went 
out with her sister in English society, and I 


6 


THE SMART SET 


do n’t wonder. You know she has a tall 
crown of diamonds — tiaras, they call them — 

I ’ve always been ashamed to tell you before ! 
She came home with it from Tiffany’s one 
day, and said it was my birthday present to 
her, and I let it go at that. Well, last 
night no Duchess could have worn the same 
sort of thing any better. The young one, 

too, looked as pretty as a whatever you 

like, only it must be damned pretty ! It was 

her first ball, you know ; she’s a , you 

know what, it ’s her first time in society. 
She had more bouquets than Patti used to 
get when you and I were running about 
town. And she was as unconcerned about 
it ! She ’s fashionable enough — I only hope 
she is n’t too much so. I do n’t want her to 
marry this young Lord who ’s hanging 
around, and I say so three times a day. The 
“ young ’un ” says I ’d better wait till he ’s 
asked her, but I do n’t dare. Julia ’s fixed > 
on it. She won’t even argue with me, 
so you can imagine how determined she 
is. But I want my daughter to marry an 
American, and live in her own home where 


THE SMART SET 


7 

her father and mother live. One thing, I 
know : most of these marrying foreigners that 
come over here want money, and I ’ll be 
hanged if I ’ll give the young ’un a penny if 
she takes this one. I mean it. I give you 
my word. He led the cotillon with her 
last night. I would n’t watch it. I staid 
in my den and helped smoke the cigars. 
None better ! I can tell you that ! 

Well, good bye, old man. If you hear 
of any thing good out your way to drop 
a couple of hundred thousand in, let me 
know — better wire me. Politics have played 
the deuce with my Utahs. Julia sends her 
love, and wants me to enclose you yards of 
newspaper clippings about the party. Ha ! 
Ha ! Not by a damn sight ! It ’s enough 
that I was bored to death by it ! The 
“ young *un ” often speaks of you. She is 
getting togged out to go with her mother 
and do the town in the way of At Homes 
and such things. What a life ! Yet they 
seem to enjoy it, and pity us. Us ! In 
Wall street ! The Elysian Fields of Amer- 


8 


THE SMART SET 


ica ! Can I do anything for you here ? You 
know I am always glad of a chance. 

Your affectionate brother, 

Will. 

How about that girl you were running 
after ? Why do n’t you give it all up ? You 
know what a bad lot she is. Settle down 
and marry. It ’s the only real happiness. 
Believe your old brother. 




THE SMART SET 


9 


II 

Letter from Mrs. Wm . H. Makeway to Lady 
Glenwill , of London. 

Thursday. 

My Darling Tina: 

It is over, and my dear, I ’m dead! Only — 
such a success! Surpassed my wildest dreams! 
If you had only been here. In the first place 
every one of any consequence in New York 
came; except, of course, those who are in 
mourning. There are certain people who 
have always held off* from me, you know; 
but they ’ve come around at last, and were 
all in evidence last night and in their best 
clothes, and all their jewels, and you know 
that always speaks well for the hostess. I 
wore my tiara that Will so generously gave 
me my last birthday (of course he hates it 
himself, but I brought it home, and he had to 
give in — the Dear!). My wedding necklace, 
three strings of real pearls, and one string 
of those u Orient ” things we bought on 


IO THE SMART SET 

Bond St. — no one could ever tell the differ- 
ence except Will, who makes a fuss every 
time I wear them. He swears he will give me 
a new real string if I put them on again, but 
I tell him we must economize now to make 
up for what the party cost. My dress was 
charming. Grace Nott brought it over from 
Pacquin for her mother, and meanwhile this 
cruel indecent new tariff came on! Get down 
on your knees, my dear, and be grateful you 
don’t live in this wretched country which is 
being turned into one great picnicking ground 
for the working classes. The custom house 
wanted to make Grace pay an awful duty, 
and then, fortunately for me, but of course it 
was terrible for them, something in Wall 
Street went up instead of down, or vice versa 
(I never can understand those things), and 
the poor Notts went to smash. The dress 
was to be left in the custom house. When I 
heard about it I bought it, duties and all. 
My dear girl, it fitted me like a dream. Did 
you ever hear anything like it? Of course, 
Mrs. Nott never could have squeezed 
herself into it, so it ’s just as well she did n’t 


THE SMART SET n 

try! It is the new color, and made in the 
very latest way — in fact, the coming spring 
mode. I really think Will’s description is the 
best. I ’ll try to quote it to you: “It begins 
at the top — i.e. decidedly below the shoulders 
— to be one kind of a dress, changes its mind 
somewhere midway, and ends out another 
sort altogether. One side starts off in one 
direction, but comes to grief and a big jewel, 
somewhere in the back. The other side, 
taking warning, starts off in an absolutely 
different way, color, and effect, and explodes 
at the waist under the opposite arm in a 
diamond sunburst and a knot of tulle, on 
accidentally meeting its opponent half.” It 
really is quite like that, too! Will is as 
amusing as ever. And he was so sweet 
about the party. Of course, at first, I had to 
be very diplomatic and get his consent with- 
out his knowing. He still hates society in 
the most unreasonable manner; would even 
rather stay at home quietly than go to his 
club. But last night he accepted the inevi- 
table and behaved like a prince. I wonder 
how many couples in New York who have 


12 


THE SMART SET 


been married nineteen years are as happy as 
Will and I are? He made a great fuss, of 
course, about the champagne and cigars. You 
would have thought the whole fate of the 
ball depended upon them; and I must say 
they cost a ridiculous price. However, he 
pays for them, and they made him happier; 
so I do n’t complain. I am sure, after all, he 
enjoyed the ball thoroughly, too. You could see 
it in his face. And what perfect manners he 
has! Do you remember? Will may not be 
“ smart,” but he ’s a gentleman, and his grand- 
fathers before him were gentlemen, and that 
always tells. 

We do n’t seem to have had many grand- 
fathers, my dear — of our own, I mean, of 
course. I know you ’ve married a wonderful 
collection of them, dating back to goodness 
knows when, but it is n’t so important for 
American women ; they can acquire breeding 
in their own lifetime. I know no other na- 
tion whose women can do the same, and even 
our men have n’t the same ability. Look at 
the American duchesses — do n’t they grace 
even the parties at Marlborough House ? 


THE SMART SET 13 

Look at yourself, my dear girl. But you 
won’t, because you’re too modest. Still you 
must acknowledge your success in England 
is conspicuous. Will’s manners are perhaps 
a little old-school, but that ’s much better 
than the new-school. Young men’s manners 
nowadays are becoming atrocious, and I ’m 
sorry to say I think they get them from 
England. The first thing one knows the 
only gentlemen left in America will be the 
women. But I hope American men won't 
lose their reputation — deserved, you must ac- 
knowledge — of being the most courteous men 
in the world to women. Well, to go back 
to the ball. Of course, all my feelings out- 
side my guests were centered in Helen. I 
might as well tell you at once, she is con- 
sidered the most attractive debutante of the 
year — not by me, I do n’t mean, nor by my 
friends, but by the people who hate us, and 
everybody. I think she is very like you, a 
sort of distingue air that you always had. I 
sometimes wonder if some of our grand- 
mothers (for even if we did n’t have grand- 
fathers we must have had grandmothers), if 


14 THE SMART SET 

some one of them — hope not two — didn’t 
make a wee slip once when royal personages 
were about ! Of course there is no’use boast- 
ing of royal blood in one’s veins when it has 
no business there, but that would account for 
certain things. You may remember the old 
portrait of mother’s mother. She looked a 
perfect duchess. Helen can have a title if 
she wants it. I might as well tell you now. 
Please find out all you can for me about 

young Lord . He will be Duke of 

when his father or some one dies; so 

find out if you can, too, how long you think 
it will probably be before he becomes a duke. 
And is he rich or poor? He needn’t be rich, 
but I don’t want to think it ’s Helen’s money 
he’s after. I’m doing all I can to bring 
about the match, and yet I ’m not so worldly 
after all as to want a daughter of mine to 
make a loveless marriage. Helen is n’t ex- 
actly pretty, but she ’s extremely attractive. 
Her figure is perfect, and she’s the most styl- 
ish thing in the world. I am very happy to- 
day as I think that I have lanceed her in the 
best New York can offer. It has not been 


THE SMART SET 15 

all downhill work. Her father’s name en- 
titled her to it; but he hated society, so he 
was more of a drawback than anything else. 
I could n’t boast of any social position in 
Buffalo, and it’s extraordinary how well that 
was known here. However, the fact of my 
being of a good, sterling, unpretentious family 
did help in the end, when I got started, and 
people saw I was serious about “ getting in.” 
Of course, you gave us our first big push for- 
ward, you darling. An entree into smart 
English society doesn’t mean so much for a 
New Yorker nowadays as it used to, but it 
means a good deal. And a sister-in-law of 
Lord Glenwill is a desirable person to know 
when in London, so it*is wise to take her up 
at home, and I, always having Helen’s future 
in mind, took advantage of every possibility. 
Perhaps I should n’t have had to push my 
way so much here if the Prince of Wales 
were still making an American girl each sea- 
son, but you know for several years now he 
seems to have given it up. I think he was 
discouraged by the last two he made at 
Homburg ; neither of them had any success 


i6 


THE SMART SET 


here the following winter, u hall-marked ” as 
they were, and even London has n’t found 
them husbands yet. 

Of course, as to one of them, I remember 

the gossip you wrote me about Colonel 

But, as you said, he had a wife and other in- 
cumbrances; so the least said about that the 
better. 

Under any circumstances, I think it’s a 
much bigger triumph to give Helen all New 
York first, now, simply by our own right, 
and then this May we ’ll take her to an early 
drawing-room, and see what happens next. 
I shall depend upon you, dear, to see that we 
go to one of the Princess’ drawing-rooms, 
and do n’t get palmed off on one of the 
Princess Christian’s or anything of that sort. 

Helen was dressed very simply, of course, 
and no jewels, but looked so sweet. Lord 
was devotion itself all evening. Nat- 
urally every one is on the qui vive for 
the engagement, but that ’s all right. They 
danced the cotillon together. We had charm- 
ing favors, not too extravagant — that ’s such 
wretched taste — but things we bought inVen- 


THE SMART SET 


l 7 

ice last year, and Hungarian things, and some 
Russian, and a set of tiny gold things Tiffany 
got up especially for us. 

I had several people down from Buffalo, 
and mother, of course. I wish you could 
have seen her, bless her heart. She had on 
all her old lace, and my coiffeur did her hair 
beautifully. She looked so handsome, and 
Will insisted on her dancing a figure of a 
quadrille with him, and how graceful and 
dignified she was. You would have been 
very proud. I was. Lots of people asked 
about her, and some seemed so surprised 
when they heard she was my mother. How 
rude people are ; and what did they expect 
my mother to be like ? After all, do / look 
like the daughter of a washerwoman ? I think 

not. We might ask the Grand Duke , if 

we meet him again at Aix. You know I told 
Will about my small, timid flirtation with the 
Russian, and really he seemed proud of my 
absurd little conquest ! A convenient hus- 
band for some women we know, would n’t 
he be? Ah, but then you see they would n’t 
deserve him! 


18 THE SMART SET 

Sherry did my supper. He imported some 
birds from Austria especially for it, and in- 
vented some dishes of his own. I think it 
was all right. People said so, but, of course, 
you can ’t believe people. I can vouch at 
any rate for the serving of it. It was like 
magic. We seated every one at little tables 
which seemed to come up thro’ the floors. 
They were everywhere except in the ball- 
room; that was left clear. 

We’ve built the ball-room since you were 
over. Will bought the house next to us 
(such a sum as they asked when they heard 
we wanted it !) and the whole lower floor we 
made into a ball-room. It just holds my 
series of Gobelins we bought for that out- 
rageous price two years ago in Paris at the 
Marquis de Shotteau’s sale. For flowers, I 
had quantities of gorgeous palms and lovely 
cut flowers in bowls and vases wherever it 
was possible. That was all, — I hate this 
stuffing a house with half-fading flowers, it 
always suggests a funeral to me, with the 
banked-up mantels for coffins. It ’s horrid, 
I know, but I can ’t help it. However, if 


THE SMART SET 


l 9 

I am writing in this vein it ’s time I stopped. 
My letter is abnormally long as it is — I hope 
the right number of stamps will be put on it. 
Forgive me for mentioning it, my dear, but 
we always have to pay double postage due 
on your epistles. I do n’t mind at all — they 
are quite worth it — only I thought you might 
like to know. 

I have all the newspapers about the ball 
for you, but I will wait till after Thursday 
and then send them on in a package. I want 
to see what Town Topics will say. Nobody 
cares, of course, only you do n’t like to see 
horrid things about you in print. Some- 
times it treats me very well, and it ’s devoted 
to Helen, but once in a while it ’s atrocious. 

I ’m only a little worried about Lord . 

I do n’t want it to say I am after him for 
Helen, because I am not / If the English 
papers have anything in, please send them 
over — I know some articles are going to be 
written. If there are any of them absurd 
and extravagant accounts, of course you will 
take pains to contradict them. The English 


20 


THE SMART SET 


press seems often determined to make Amer- 
ican society ridiculous. 

Will says we will be greatly indebted to 
your husband if he will get us a house for 
the season, as you proposed. Carleton 
House Terrace, if possible; if not, use your 
own judgment, only not Grosvenor Square — 
they make too much fun of strangers who 
go there. I hope you are well and taking 
some sort of care of yourself, which you 
know you never do. And please, if you go to 
Paris at Easter, be sure to write us at once 
if sleeves are still growing smaller, if hats 
are big or little, and whether it ’s feathers or 
flowers, or both. Also, of course, anything 
else that will help us. And do n’t forget to 

find out all you can about Lord — . And 

do you advise announcing the engagement 
before her presentation, or afterward ? And 
by no means say a word to anybody, as he 
has n’t proposed yet. By the way, Will is 
violently opposed to it. But I think Helen 
and I together will be too much for him, and 
if absolutely necessary my health can give out ! 
That had to happen, you remember, before I 


THE SMART SET 21 

could get him out of 15th street and up 
here. 

My love to the Hon. Bertha. How is 
the dear child ? I long to see you. Say 
what you like, this society life is n’t alto- 
gether satisfactory. I think after Helen is 
happily married — to whomever it is — I shall 
drift quietly out of it, and gradually take to 
playing Joan to Will’s Darby. I ’m sure 
Will would love it. 

Love to you both, and a heart full to your- 
self, Tina, dearest. 

Your affectionate old sister, 

Mary. 

P. S. — Don ’t laugh at what I said about 
a society life. Of course I do n’t mean it. 
I don’t believe I could live without it 
now. I ’m tired after the ball, that ’s all. 
To tell the truth I don’t quite know where 
my head is. I shall take two phoenacetine 
powders right away. Do you know about 
them ; they ’re so good. Did I ask you if you 
went to Paris Easter to be sure and write me 
if sleeves O yes, I remember, I did. 


22 


THE SMART SET 


III 

From Miss Makeway to Miss Blanche Mathe- 
son in Rome. 

Thursday. 

My darling Blanche : 

Of course I know you are having a wonder- 
ful time in Rome with Royalties and all sorts 
of smart people and gay entertainments, but 
still I wish you had been at our ball last 
night. I believe you would have enjoyed it. 
I don ’t think anyone can deny we know how 
to give balls in America, and mama is a 
wonder! You know she’ s been fishing for 
guests for this ball for years. And she 
wouldn ’t give it till she was sure of a list of 
people who would be present that would bear 
comparison with anybody’s ; and, my dear, we 
had it ! And I am sure mama feels more 
than repaid. With such a culmination every- 
thing has been worth while — the French chef 
and his terrible extravagances, for you must 
pay to be known as a good house to dine at — 


THE SMART SET 


2 3 


all the deadly afternoon parties, all the ex- 
orbitant fees paid for years to the opera sing- 
ers to sing, the house at Newport — and the 
one at Lennox, the seasons in London, that 
shooting box in Scotland ( it bored us to 
death ), it was all worth while now that we 
have arrived at the toppest top. And no one 
could become her position better than mama. 
A society matron of the first water is cer- 
tainly her metier. 

Lord is very much struck with mama. 

I will tell you about him later. Of course poor 
papa looks a little what that amusing young 
Englishman would call perhaps 1872. He 
was n’t in it for a minute ; bored to death, poor 
thing. You know he hates parties. Thank 
heaven I am u out” at last, for now I can go to 
everything that comes on. And do as I please, 
that is if I want to, because I may marry soon! 
I wish I could see your expression when you 

read that. Of course it is Lord . He 

proposed last night, but I told him he must 
wait, and propose again in a couple of weeks. 
I wasn ’t ready to decide yet. I must be free 
“ out ” for a couple of weeks at least. 


24 


THE SMART SET 


He will be Duke of , some day. As 

the Duchess I shall have precedence over 
Mamie Smith, Gertrude Strong, and Irene 
van Worth, and even over all the older 
women who have married abroad, except the 

Duchesses of and . Think what 

fun it would be to sail in everywhere ahead 
of Mamie Smith, after all the insufferable 
airs she has put on! I don’t believe I could 
make a better match. Besides he’s youngish 
and good-looking, has splendid estates, and I 
really like him. I mean I think he is the 
sort of man you can get very romantic about. 
And of course there ’s no real social life any- 
where but abroad, and there ’s no other life 
that would n’t bore me to death. It ’s only 
natural, for my whole childhood was spent 
in an atmosphere of searching after it. Ever 
since I can remember the chief occupation 
and interest of mama was how diplomat- 
ically to get into the smartest set with 
dignity. It seemed as difficult as the pro- 
verbial camel and eye of a needle and the 
rich man getting into heaven, and in my 
younger days the three were all very much 


THE SMART SET 


3 5 


mixed up together in my mind. I think I 
should prefer London to Paris. Smart life 
in Paris seems to be so very much more im- 
moral than in London, judging from what one 
hears and the books one reads, and you know I 
don’t care about immorality. I get that from 
mama, too. She is shocked all the time 
in the u world,” over here even, tho’ she tries 
to hide it. 

Our house looked lovely last night. We 
had powdered footmen, and just enough 
music and just enough supper and just 
enough people. One of the secrets of suc- 
cess in society is not to overcrowd anything. 

Of course there were some drawbacks to 
the ball, but small things that did n’t really 
count. Mary Farnham came and sat the 
whole evening thro’, as usual, without once 
dancing. Even papa said he “drew the line 
at that.” Why does n’t she take something ? 
You see lots of things advertised that change 
people almost as big as she into a perfect 
shadow in no time. You feel so sorry for 
her when she ’s your guest. I had a great 
mind to put Lord to the test, but I 


26 


THE SMART SET 


did n’t quite dare! Then Tommy Baggs 
came and repeated his customary gymnas- 
tics — waltzed on everybody’s toes in the 
rooms (slipper sellers ought to pay him a 
commission), tore two women’s gowns nearly 
off their waists and spilled champagne frappe 
down Mrs. ‘Carton’s back; would have ruined 
her bodice, if she ’d had any on, at the back. 
She bore it like a lamb. Her teeth were 
fairly chattering, but she laughed and said it 
was rather pleasant. 

Good heavens ! Who do you suppose is 

down stairs? Lord — ! It ’s going to be 

a bore if he ’s coming every day. I shall go 
down and tell him these two weeks I am to 
have a complete holiday. 

Do write me all you ’re doing. 

With love always, 

Helen. 

Later — I have accepted him ! He was so 
perfectly charming ! I could n’t help it ! 


THE SMART SET 


27 


IV 


From a Guest. 

Thursday. 

My dear Claire: 

I was so glad to hear from you about 
Florida, and, as you are having such an 
amusing time, and as the season here is prac- 
tically finished now that the much-talked of 
Makeway ball is over, I ’ve decided to join 
you next week. Besides, I ’ve missed you 
awfully, and it will be so nice to be with you 
again. Will you be so good as to engage my 
rooms for me? — a bedroom with two wind- 
dows facing south ; not near the elevator by 
any means; not above the third floor — but not 
on the first. Please see that the coloring is 
blue or pink; I ’m not particular about de- 
sign or material, or anything of that sort (I 
do n’t think people should be too exigeant ) — 
only yellow, or red, or white, or green rooms 
are too awfully unbecoming to me. Have 
drawing-room to connect with the bedroom 


28 


THE SMART SET 


please, and then a room for my maid. I 
hope you won’t have to pay more than seven 
dollars a week for her (all included, natur- 
ally). She is n’t at all particular. I ’m sure 
I could n’t afford to keep her if she were, and 
she ’s such a treasure. Of course she reads 
all my letters and minds my own business 
more than I do myself, and uses up my 
crested writing paper at a terrific rate; but 
that one expects — do n’t you think so — with a 
good servant ? 

I know you are mad to hear all about the 
ball, so I’ll tell you. In the first place it 
was a great success, and that settles it ! The 
Makeways are now a power in New York 
society, and there ’s really no reason why 
they should n’t be. His family are all right 
and her English connections are better ; 
and then what a charming women she is! 
She makes a perfect hostess. Such tact! 
Everything was carried out in the best of 
taste. If they erred at all it was on the side 
of simplicity ; and yet that gives you a wrong 
idea about the ball, because it really could 
boast of splendor. Yes, I mean it, but of a 


THE SMART SET 


29 


solid, real kind. There is nothing papier 
mache about the Makeway house ; nor about 
its owners, nor about their entertainment. 
You can ’t help but believe this, and it gives 
you a sense of social security! Everyone any- 
one would want in their house was there. If 
any line was drawn tightly inside the smart 
circle, it defined the pseudo-declasse. Mrs. 
Makeway might be described in England as a 
slightly early-Victorian hostess, or if our pres- 
idents had at all the position and social power 
of royalties, she would be ticketed perhaps as 
of the Hayes period, except that would imply 
“Total Abstinence,” which would mean 
instant death to anyone in smart society, 
thank goodness! I suppose you ’ve heard 
that old mot of the dinners at the White 
House during the Hayes administration, that 
water flowed like champagne ! Well, that will 
never be said of the Makeways. Their wine 
was the very best, too ; I never had better at 
any party, seldom as good, and even John, 
who scoffs at the idea of women being a 
judge of wines, confesses, that, though we ’ve 
entertained everybody all our lives, we ’ve 


30 


THE SMART SET 


never had such a good wine inside our doors. 
The supper was, in the first place, comfort- 
able, and, in the second place, faultless. 
(There was a queer kind of game, which I 
loathed, but of course I knew, whatever it 
was, under the circumstances it was the right 
thing, so I choked it down.) The music was 
superb — all the good Hungarian orchestras in 
town. The cotillon favors were lovely, and 
some very stunning gold and jeweled things 
from Tiffany’s must have cost a fortune. 

But of course what you want to know about 
most is the people and what they had on. I 
wore my — but you ’ll see my dress in Florida, 
so never mind. Mrs. Makeway had a superb 
dress, but she always dresses handsomely. 
What a nice man Mr. Makeway is. You felt 
sure he was bored to death by the party, and 
all of us at it, but he concealed it with such 
charming manners and such natural courtesy 
that you really felt somehow it was a pleasure 
to come and put him out. The daughter is a 
great success ; there ’s no denying that. She 
has a perfect figure, and is very graceful. She 
seems to have her father’s manners, brought 


THE SMART SET 


3 1 

up to date by her mother. She ’s going to 
be a leader, you can tell that, and apparently 
she can be an eventual duchess, if she wishes. 
Young Lord — is still here, and his de- 

votion in the Makeway quarter is undis- 
guised. Everyone likes him, and says he 
is n’t the sort of young fellow to be merely 
after her money; but no one can tell if Helen 
is going to take him or not. I am sure of 
one thing, she will do as she pleases. 

There were beautiful jewels in evidence 
at the ball. Mrs. Makeway wore, I believe, 
a dozen strings of the most gorgeous pearls. 
All real , of course, with their money. They 
must represent a fortune in themselves. 
Poor old Mrs. Hammond Blake came with 
all her Switzerland amethysts, and a few new 
topazes mixed in (she must have been at 
Lucerne last summer). She looked like one 
of those glass gas-lit signs. But really, all 
the best jewels in New York were there. 
And it is wonderful to see how the women 
whose throats are going the way of the 
world have welcomed the revival of black 
velvet if they have n’t the pearl collarettes. 


32 THE SMART SET 

I shall be wanting something of the sort 
myself soon. Woe is me ! And John does 
keep looking so abominally young. I tell 
him out of courtesy to me he must get old 
more quickly, or people will be saying I 
married a man years younger than myself! 

John says I need n’t trouble to furnish 
people with subjects for talking; they can 
make up their own. But I do n’t think we 
are gossips nowadays here in America; do 
you ? Which reminds me that everybody says 
the Mathews are going to separate at last. 
She ’s going to Dakota, and get it on incap- 
tability, or cruelty, or some little thing like 
that. Everybody wondered at first why, 
since she ’d stood it so long, she was going to 
divorce Ned now, at this late day, but it has 
leaked out. Think of it — Charlie Harris ! 
Are n’t you surprised ? It ’s only about two 
years since he divorced his wife. Mrs. 
Harris got the children, so I presume Mrs. 
Mathews will keep hers to give Charlie in 
place of his own. If I remember the num- 
ber he will be getting compound interest ! 
You know the Mathews babies came with 


THE SMART SET 


33 


such lightning rapidity we lost count. One 
was always confusing the last baby with the 
one that came before it. Anyway, I think 
Charlie Harris gets the best of it ; so, even 
if it is n’t altogether ideal to possess your 
children “ ready made,” as it were, still 
Elsie Mathews is a charming woman, and I 
never could bear Mrs. Harris. She told such 
awful fibs, and her exaggerations were not 
decorative ; they were criminal. Why, I 
could n’t recognize a piece of news I told her 
myself when I heard her repeating it to some 
one else not five minutes after, as John says. 

Heavens! for the third time, “ as John 
says,” I must stop. But I am a very happy 
married woman! John gives me everything 
I want, and I adore him. 

When I hear from you I will telegraph 
my train. We missed you awfully at the 
Makeways. John spoke of it several times. 
He loves to dance with you because you are 
always ready to sit it out and do all the talk- 
ing. Dear me, I ’m afraid that does n’t 
sound complimentary, but I assure you he 
meant it as such ! 


34 


THE SMART SET 


How nice it will be to be with you. You 
are n’t strict about your mourning, are you ? 
I do n’t think it ’s at all necessary, way off 
there. 

With love, always affectionately, 

Maybel Parke Rodney. 


THE SMART SET 


35 


IV 

From an Uninvited . 

Thursday. 

My Darling George : 

I hope this letter will reach you before 
you leave Minneapolis. I do wish you would 
leave politics alone, if they ’re going to take 
you away like this. Believe me, the country 
can get along much better without you than I 
can ! When we are married you have got 
to give them up. When we are married, too, 
and this bore of a divorce of mine is finally 
settled, I presume I shall be invited to Mrs. 
Makeway’s parties ! I was n’t asked last 
night to her big ball ! — not that I care. I am 
sure that beast of a husband of mine will 
never be able to prove his nasty charges against 
us, and that I shall win the case. Then 
there ’ll be no excuse for Mrs. Makeway and 
her prudish set, and I promise you they shall 
eat “ humble pie,” if there ’s any left in the 
world after all my dear friends have made me 


3 6 THE SMART SET 

devour. Tom has been making overtures to 
my maid through a detective, but Lena is 
faithful to us, and I ’ve promised her double 
any sum they offer her. When my position 
is all right again, I shall go in for society in 
the most extravagant, splendid way for one 
long, brilliant, spiteful season, and I shall 
punish every one of these women who have 
snubbed me so terribly. After all, half of 
them owe their positions in the world to 
my family, and with my family to back me 
there will be no trouble about my being 
absolutely reinstated. My people will back 
me up, too, for we have never had a scandal 
up till now. We have been almost the only 
family left. 

Of course the papers are full of the Make- 
way ball, and the pictures of Mrs. Makeway 
are too deliciously absurd for anything. One 
looks like that one of me in the Evening News 
when I gave my evidence. I really believe 
it ’s the same picture. 1 hear that she looked 
rather well with her famous pearls on (which, 
between you and me, I believe are false), and 
her tiara, which all the out-of-town people 


THE SMART SET 37 

go to the opera to see. But they say she 
was dressed entirely too young, and showed 
she thought her own party a great success. 
However, what can you expect ? She was 
nobody; her family are most ordinary people, 
the kind that are prominent in some unfash- 
ionable church and influential in its Sunday- 
school. O, la-la-la-la ! She prides herself 
on having an ancestor of some sort who 
fought in the War of Independence — a com- 
mon soldier, I suppose, in Washington’s army; 
that ’s why she has had an office in the 
“ Daughters of the Revolution.” We had 
several ancestors in the war — commissioned 
officers ; and they all fought for King George, 
thank heaven; and if they had only won my 
father would have been the third Lord Ban- 
ner, probably, if not something better. So 
hang Mrs. Makeway ! Her daughter is an 
ugly little creature ; she has n’t a single fea- 
ture that does n’t go its own way irrespective 
of the others, and with a total disregard for 
the tout ensemble of the poor girl’s face. You 
know the sort of thing — each feature seems 
to be minding the other’s business. Her 


38 


THE SMART SET 


teeth look lovely, but I believe some of them 
are “ crowns” — they do that sort of thing so 
well nowadays ! What I will grant her is a 
beautiful figure, but my corset-maker, who is 
hers, too, gives me her word of honor she 
laces awfully ! They say she had the best 
time of any girl at the ball ; which, if you 
ask me, I think beastly taste. 

The house everyone says looked very beau- 
tiful — of course, money will do everything — 
and the music was superb for the same reason, 
and the supper not too extravagant. (I suppose 
they economized on that !) But lots of people 
I ’ve met say they were bored to death, and 
that there was an awful crowd. It ’s extraor- 
dinary the people she had there! How she got 
them I do n’t know — all the swells. But dear 
me, after all, that ’s nothing; swells will go 
to anyone who ’ll amuse them. I hear old 
Makeway looked fearfully miserable, and, in- 
stead of paying other women compliments, 
made love to his own wife all the evening. 
It’s extraordinary, because he is really a 
gentleman. His great-grandfather and my 
great-grandfather were great chums; made 


THE SMART SET 


39 

their money, I think, in the same busi- 
ness. 

By the way, the Pinkertons have written 
me that they have still more evidence against 
Tom. They say she is “doing a turn” 
— whatever that is — in some variety theatre. 
According to accounts she did Tom for a good 
deal — -just served him right. 

Do hurry back — I miss you so, and am so 
lonely. It ’s a year and a half since we ’ve 
been separated so long as this. Come back. 
Do n’t make me jealous or suspicious. Besides 
it is n’t complimentary to trust me so tre- 
mendously. 

The lawyer is here — I hope he has come 
to assure me of my positive victory. 

* * * * * 

He has thrown up the suit. We are lost! 
He says Tom has indisputable proof, and that 
there is no use trying. Can Lina be a wretch 
after all? or do you suppose it is your man? 
Come at once, at no matter what sacrifice. 
The Majestic sails on Wednesday. Had n’t 
we better throw up the sponge and take it? ” 

Always, and in spite of everything, your 
adoring Edith. 







































w 













The Plaintiff 

Two Letters 


I. From Mr. John Stuart Kennington to 
Mrs. Kennington, his wife. 

II. From Mrs. John Stuart Kennington, 
by special messenger, to the law firm 
of Jordan & Fields. 


* 

/ 




THE SMART SET 


43 


I 

From John Stuart Kennington to Mrs. Kenning- 
ton , his wife. 

Newport, October — th, 189-. 

Suspicion is absolutely foreign to my 
nature. Therefore, far from a thought of 
worry when I found my business visits to 
New York this summer becoming more and 
more easy to make as far as you were con- 
cerned, I used instead to get “a lump in my 
throat ” on the train which left you here be- 
hind, believing that your love for me influ- 
enced you to hide your own feelings and aid 
me all you could in the performance of my 
duties, even at the cost of your own pre- 
ferred pleasure and at the price of a good 
many hours of loneliness. Loneliness ! Oh, 
what fools we men sometimes are ! Yes, 
and how careless you women become ! 

I shall never forget the day I changed my 
plans suddenly, deciding I would n’t go to 
New York that week after all, although my 


44 


THE SMART SET 


bag was packed and Smithers already at the 
station with it. The instantaneous look of 
disappointment which leaped across your face, 
and which for some seconds you did n’t 
sufficiently realize to conceal — what a vista 
that look opened out to me — a hellish vista! 
And your constrained little smile — a sort of 
conscious visible movement of the muscles 
about your mouth — cc on purpose ” — came 
too late. That first look had been like a 
Rontgen ray over the last six months of 
our life — lives I should say; for while you 
and I were living one life, you at the same 
time, without me, were living another. Then 
I understood this summer’s comfortable 
weekly good-byes, so different from other 
years ! I think, down in the bottom of my 
heart, I understood all at that moment , — 
though I would n’t acknowledge it not even 
in secret to myself, and even when, before 
another twenty-four hours had passed, my 
eyes were damnable witnesses against you. I 
could n’t believe them, and doubt if I would 
have if you had not confessed. Of course, 
I knew whenever we had guests Jack Tolby 


THE SMART SET 


* 


45 

was always one of them, and also one of the 
guests wherever we went, but it only seemed 
natural. He was extremely agreeable in our 
house; it ’s only now I realize he has always 
rather avoided me at the club. I suppose 
even men like him have some sort of con- 
science, or at least a sense of decency, if not 
of honor, toward their own friends, and, if 
so, good God, how ashamed he must have 
been every time he had to take my hand ! 
And you, when you received my lips on yours, 
already satiated with kisses in my absence ! 
Ugh ! Kate ! Kate ! how I hate you ! Yes, 
hate is the word. And to think you are 
the mother of my children ! That is the big 
hurt. 

I want you to understand that what I 
am going to do is entirely for their sake, 
not at all for yours. You who have been 
the first to drag the name of Kennington in 
the public mud. Three honest generations 
of us have kept it clean and honorable, and 
our wives have done the same for us all down 
to you — all except my wife. I used to think 
that in marrying me you had placed me 


THE SMART SET 


46 

deeper in your debt than I could ever repay. 
Ever since the first time I saw you I loved 
you; and after that meeting I put my arms 
about no woman — arms that had been free 
enough before — until I put them around you. 
And since then the same. I have been an 
absolutely faithful husband to you. Do you 
understand what that means ? I do n’t be- 
lieve so. I preferred you to every other 
woman in the world. When away from you, 
your memory guarded my embraces. Yet I 
am not a romantic man. Now, for instance, 
I look at it all in a straightforward light. I 
realize that you were a girl with no money 
and no particular position in the world ; and 
in marrying me you obtained both. You 
have reveled in society — thanks to me and 
my family — and this is the return you have 
made. You have dishonored us. Now 
listen ; this is what I propose doing. I do 
not intend to have my children suffer pub- 
licly, as they would, especially my two little 
daughters, if your disgrace were made public. 
It happens to be with us that a father’s fall- 
ing in this direction does not so seriously, if 


THE SMART SET 47 

at all, affect his children ; therefore, for their 
sake, instead of my divorcing I am going 
to give you proof and witness by which you 
may divorce me , for your own sin. But there 
are certain conditions with which you must 
comply. I will send by my lawyer a paper, 
which you will sign in the presence of wit- 
nesses before any further steps are taken. In 
this paper you will agree on your securing 
your divorce to marry Tolby. I have had an 
interview with him (this is not an age nor a 
country of duels), and I demanded that he 
make me the reparation of marrying you 
when you are free. I must frankly say from 
his manner I do not judge him over anxious. 
I believe even a duel with pistols would on 
the whole have pleased Tolby better. It is 
true that precedent is not in his favor. His 
own experience with you will doubtless make 
him a little uneasy. To continue: You 
are to marry him. You are to demand of 

me in your suit the sum of $ (and do 

not be uneasy, you will win your suit). This 
will be convenient for you when you re-marry, 
for you know Tolby has n’t a cent. It will 


48 THE SMART SET 

be a real love match on your part, charming ! 
You are to give all my mother’s jewels to 
our oldest daughter on her marriage, and all 
the jewels I have ever given you to our 
second on hers. Should the girls not marry 
at twenty-five, they are then to have the 
jewels. As to the children I shall have to 
submit, in my role of the guilty party, to 
letting you have control over them; but I 
warn you that this is to be only nominal. If 
ever I find you prejudicing either one of them 
against me in any way whatever — even if I 
find their affections are being alienated from 
me by some sort of public opinion or gossip — I 
warn you that when each one is old enough 
to understand he shall be told the truth. You 
had better look to it then that my children 
love me. Your own hold over their affections 
rests upon it. These points, and a few others 
bearing upon them, will be set forth legally in 
the paper which my lawyer will bring you. 
Kindly send me word if you are prepared to 
sign, and, if so, when Mr. Jordan or his rep- 
resentative may call. Good bye. 

John Stuart Kennington. 


THE SMART SET 


II 

From Mrs. ’John Stuart Kennington , by Special 
Messenger , to the law firm of Jordan £sf Fields. 

No. — East 66th street. 
Benj. K. Jordan, Esq. 

Dear Sir: 

On second thoughts, after you have left 
me, I have decided to ask you to write Mr. 
Kennington as follows — I mean I will give 
you the idea of what I wish said : Acknowl- 
edge the receipt of his letter, and say I shall 
be delighted to sign the paper he proposes at 
his earliest convenience. I must ask, how- 
ever, that he submits the document through 
you, etc. (the same as we agreed on just now 
in our interview). Now, besides, you must 
demand for me the following changes or cor- 
rections, or whatever is right to call them, in 

the paper. First, the sum of $ is too 

small ; $ must be added to it. Also, I am 

not willing to give up all my homes. Either 
the house in New York, or in Newport, or on 


50 THE SMART SET 

Long Island must be made over to me. And 
I positively refuse to part with the ruby neck- 
lace to one of my daughters unless I should 
choose to do so of my own free will. For 
the other jewels I have no use whatever. 
You can express that as you see fit. Ask 
him to let me hear as soon as possible. 

Yours truly, 

Gertrude Corte Kennington. 
Tuesday. 












t 



The Summer 


A Letter 




THE SMART SET 


53 


Grand Hotel de 1* Europe, 

Aix-les-Bains, 

Sunday. 

My Dear Mary: 

Our summer has been a perfect failure. I 
said in the very beginning if we followed 
John and the children’s ideas it would be; 
but as I was in the minority I gave in. Fortu- 
nately we did catch the tail end of the London 
season. The others wanted to go straight 
on to Paris, but for that once I put my foot 
down — and all the trunks as well. It was 
very warm ; still there was a great deal go- 
ing on, so we did n’t mind the heat, at least I 
didn’t. Heat in London during the season 
is such a different thing from heat in Switzer- 
land or some dull seaside place, where there 
is not sufficient distraction to take your mind 
off it. I was doing something every minute. 
That’s the charm of London. Every hour 
of the day there is something, and if there 
ever was a dull interval I dropped into one 
of the picture galleries. You know you 


54 


THE SMART SET 


have to do that sort of thing over* here. 
People talk about pictures, and some do it 
very well, too, and you really meet painters 
out. The children go and see things that 
are good for their education, you know — the 
Tower, where Mary Queen of Scots, or 
Anne Boleyn, I forget which, was beheaded, 
and the — well, all sorts of places like that. 
The heat made them rather irritable, and 
Evelyn had a rash, but I thought it was good 
for them to see all the historical sights. So 
we staid on just the same till after Good- 
wood. And the races ended my pleasure, 
for next we started for Lucerne. 

I said all along there would be no one in 
the place. Of course people do go there, 
but on their way to somewhere else, or 
coming home at odd times, and not for too 
long. There is never really any society 
there. I knew it. I have had experience 
with it. Besides, we know the places that 
every one does go to in July and August. I 
preferred Homburg, with Aix at the end, 
but I would have put up with Trouville first, 
or Ostend, or even Dinard. But no, Switz- 


THE SMART SET 55 

erland it was! I hate it; I always did. It’s 
too like its photographs. It has absolutely 
no style. It ’s all nature, nature, nature ! 
The mountains and lakes, no matter how old 
they really may be, still always have the 
beaut'e du diable ; and for a woman of my age — 
who has to resort to art to keep herself look- 
ing the slightest little bit younger than she 
is ! — it gets on one’s nerves, all this natural 
beauty ! I prefer some place that has to 
resort to art, too, and make itself up a little 
with gorgeous hotels, casinos, theatres, and 
baccarat tables. Mountains bore me, and I 
hate to go on the water. There at Lucerne 
the mountains stood continually and solemnly 
around, just like elderly relatives at a family 
reunion, and the flat lake lies as uninterest- 
ing as the conversation of these estimable 
creatures would be. And then the people ! 
The town crowded to suffocation, scarcely 
breathing space, and yet nobody there. To 
be sure once in a while one notices an 
extraordinary old frump go by, who turns 
out to be the Duchess of this, or Princess 
that, but I assure you one would have been 


THE SMART SET 


5 6 

ashamed to drive in the park with her (at 
home), unless she was placarded. Now and 
then somebody decent from New York or 
Boston arrived on a morning train, but, of 
course, they usually left in the evening, 
driven away by the glare, or the white dust, 
or by the eternal tourists. That man Cook 
has done more to spoil attractive places than 
any other dozen people in the world put 
together. Sometimes, of course, they are 
amusing. One day I went to see the Lion ! 
Do n’t laugh. John bet me five hundred 
dollars I would n’t go. So, of course, I did. 
Fortunately I ’d heard the children explain- 
ing it or I should n’t have enjoyed so much the 
following joke. 

A woman and her daughter, both Cooks, 
(tourists I mean, of course, tho’ heaven knows 
what the mother might n’t have been at 
home), stood in front of the monument. 

“ What ’s this, Clara ?” asked the older 
woman. 

CLARA. 

Why this is the famous Lion of Lucerne, 
mother ! 


THE SMART SET 


57 


MOTHER. 

Oh is it, ain’t it lovely ! What ’s it for — I 
mean why is it ? 

CLARA. 

Why, you know, mother, for defending 
poor Marie Antoinette in the Tuilleries! 

MOTHER. 

Oh, did it ! And then people say lions are 
such nasty, heartless creatures. 

CLARA. 

(Laughing.) O mother! the lion did n't do 
it; it ’s only put up for a monument to the 
soldiers who died trying to protect her from 
the mob ! 

MOTHER. 

Oh, I see; it’s just a fancy picture! 
Well, anyway, I think it ’s awful sad. 

What do you think of that ? And those 
are the kind of people Switzerland was full 
of. Some were alone, and some were imper- 


58 THE SMART SET 

sonally conducted in a very loose sort of 
way. Wherever you wanted to go they 
were sure to be ahead, and kicking up a mid- 
dle-class dust that choked you. The loud 
sound of their incessant talk echoed from 
snow peak to snow peak. And their terrible 
clothes, chosen evidently w not to show 
the dirt” (but they did), came between 
your eyes and any beauty of scenery there 
might be, even if you cared to see it, and I 
did n v t. And then the droves of rich Ameri- 
cans at the hotels ! Where did they come 
from ? Where did they learn how not to 
dress ? Where did they learn how not to be- 
have ? Those are the questions I asked my- 
self continually, and always gave them up ! I 
became so tired of hearing of Pilatus and the 
Rigi, I felt as if one were at the head of my 
grave and the other at the foot ! I had a sort 
of indigestion of mountains and lakes ! And 
there was John ! rushing out every other min- 
ute to sit and look at them (I assure you I was 
threatened very much with the neuralgia from 
the damp of the lake terrace). And he climbed 
everything that was climbable, even preferred 


THE SMART SET 


59 


walking up; but when there were railways I 
made him take them for fear he ’d hurt him- 
self. I believe he went to the top of every 
blessed thing that had any top ! I found 
plenty of horrid people to look down on with- 
out going to the tops of mountains. I tried 
to drive, but there was n’t a decent turnout in 
the place. I went out in a little steam launch, 
but was frightened to death for fear I ’d be 
run down by one of the steamers crowded 
with Cooks. Oh, no ! assez of Switzerland 
for me ! I said to John — u Bring me here 
to bury me if you like, but do n’t bring me 
here alive again.” And finally, when he and 
the children couldn ’t find anything more to 
climb, I managed to move them on to Aix, 
and here I am. 

And, of course, the English season has just 
finished, and the French people have n’t 
begun to come yet, and Aix is hot, and dull, 
and empty ! Really, is n’t it trying ? There 
are even only second-rate cocottes about, 
none of the smart ones yet ! I am dying of 
the blues. Besides I have to take the baths, 
although I do n’t want them, because the 


6o 


THE SMART SET 


only way I managed to persuade John to 
come here was by pretending I needed them ! 
When I think of you in Newport, in spite of 
the heat, leading an absolutely ideal life 
with your visits, your dinners, and your balls, 
I am green with envy. These are the times 
when life seems really almost too compli- 
cated to worry through. Of course if I were 
like John’s sister Margaret, sort of half-crazy, 
who loves the real country, prefers a farm- 
house to a hotel, fields and woods to a casino, 
I might get on well enough. But I consider 
that nothing short of a morbid state of mind. 

If you love me, write me soon, and cheer 
me up. But do n’t tell me of too much going 
on with you, or it will be more than I can 
bear. If you could honestly say that it was 
rather a dull season in Newport this year, you 
do n’t know what a comfort it would be. I 
do hope John and the children appreciate 
the sacrifice I am making for them. I ’m 
sure I try to have them realize it. It only 
shows what we mothers will do for our children. 

With love, your affectionate, but depressed, 
Geraldine. 


THE SMART SET 


6 1 


P.S. — Of course, as you can imagine, the 
shops at Lucerne were filthy. I did n’t buy 
a thing except some presents for the servants. 
At Aix the shops are better, but with so 
few people here, somehow one has no in- 
spiration. I ’ve bought literally nothing ex- 
cept five hats. 



The Children 

Three Dialogues 

I. Divorce. 

II. Birth. 

III. Death. 
































' V 









































t 

















THE SMART SET 65 


I 

Divorce. 

Tom Barnes, age ten , whose mother , Mrs . 
Barnes , having divorced his father , 
second husband , has since remarried , dW is 
now Mrs . Jenley. 

Claire Worthing, age seven , whose mother , 
irthing , having divorced her 
Father to marry the divorced Mr. Barnes , 
z’j now Mrs. Barnes. 

Scene, <2 Fashionable Dancing School in New 
York. A quadrille has been announced. 
Master Barnes goes up to Miss Claire and 
bowing somewhat stiffly , mumbles some not 
altogether intelligible words. Miss Claire , 
sliding down from her chair , Jdryx u Thank 
youf with perfect composure and a conven- 
tional smile , tfj, taking his arm , choose 

a position in the dance. 

TOM. 

Shall we stop here in this set ? 


66 


THE SMART SET 


CLAIRE. 

No! Becky Twines’ dress would ruin 
mine. And she made her maid give her 
that one on purpose I ’m sure, because she 
knew what I was going to wear. But I 
do n’t care. I heard mama say, yesterday, 
her mother, in spite of all her money, hadn’t 
been able to buy her way into several houses. 
I do n’t think she ought to have been invited 
to join our dancing class at ail. When 
people buy their way into other people’s 
houses like that, how do they do it do you 
suppose ? Does the butler sell tickets at the 
door, do you think ? 


TOM. 

Perhaps so ! Butlers look like that. My! 
I’d jolly like to be a butler! ( They have 
moved, on to another set .) Shall we stop 
here ? 

CLAIRE. 

Oh, no, not here! Teddy Jones always 
mixes us up. He treads on our toes. 


6 7 


\ 

TH E SMART SET 

TOM. 

Yes, and squeezes the girls’ hands, too. 

CLAIRE. 

Oh, that we do n’t mind! Would you 
like to sit this dance out on the stairs? ( She 
would prefer it herself 

TOM. 

No, let ’s dance. Come on, this is a good 
place. 

CLAIRE. 

As you please. Do you like kissing 
games ? 

TOM. 

(Red in the face .) No; do you? (He 
does,) 

CLAIRE. 

Oh, I do n’t mind. (An embarrassed 
pause.) 

TOM. 

I like football and those kind of games. 


68 


THE SMART SET 


CLAIRE. 

They are all very well for boys. But I 
do n’t much care for games myself, and, be- 
sides, I do n’t have the time. 

TOM. 

What do girls do with themselves all the 
time ? 

CLAIRE. 

Oh ! I have my lessons, and I walk out 
with my maid every morning, and I dress 
three times a day, and then I have visits to 
make on other little girls. 

TOM. 

You ’ve got a new father, have n’t you ? 

CLAIRE. 

Yes, mama was married two weeks ago. 

TOM. 

How do you like him ? 


THE SMART SET 


69 


CLAIRE. 

Oh, very much ! 

TOM. 

You take my word for it, he ’s a brick. 
I know ! He used to be my father once. 

[ The music starts up , and the couples bow . 


7 ° 


THE SMART SET 


II 

Birth 

Elsie, age 6. 

Teresa, age 8. 

Bob, age y. 

( They are sitting on the steps of the large 
piazza of a beautiful country house , the two 
little girls affectionately close , the boy at an awk- 
ward distance. There has been a pause in the 
conversation , which the boy breaks .) 

BOB. 

We’ve got a new baby at our house! 

(< Splendid effect /) 

ELSIE, TERESA. 

( Together .) Oh ! 

( Their eyes are suddenly bright and their 
faces glow with a sort of awed curiosity and 
pleasure , not unmixed with envy.) 


What kind ? 


ELSIE. 


THE SMART SET 


7i 


TERESA. 

( Eagerly .) Yes; which is it ? 

BOB. 

( Proudly .) A boy, of course ! 

( The two little girls ’ faces fall for a second , 
and they are silent , but not for long . ) 

ELSIE. 

Of course there have to be boys some- 
times. 

TERESA. 

Yes, to make a change. 

ELSIE. 

Is n’t it funny where babies come from ! 

BOB. 

Yes, you find them in cabbages. 

ELSIE. 

Oh, no ! They come down in rainstorms. 


7 2 


THE SMART SET 


TERESA. 

No, no! They come out of the flowers. 

BOB. 

Stuff! 

ELSIE. 

They do come from the skies, because you 
know the stars are little babies waiting to be 
picked. 

TERESA. 

I thought the stars were the places where 
God put his fingers through. 

BOB. 

They aren’t any such thing; they’re the 
gold tacks that fasten on the carpet of heaven. 

ELSIE. 

When I grow up I shall have eleven 
babies, because I have eleven favorite names, 
and I shall have them all at once, so they 
can have nice, happy times playing together, 
and there won’t have to be any horrid older 


THE SMART SET 73 

brother and sister, always getting the best of 
everything. 

TERESA. 

And I’ll tell you what ! I’ll have eleven 
children too, to marry yours. 

BOB. 

No, I’ll marry one of them. 

ELSIE. 

No, you must marry one of us. 

BOB. 

Which one? 

ELSIE. 

Well, I think it would be best for you to 
marry me and be father for my eleven chil- 
dren. I want them to have a father. I love 
my father. 

TERESA. 

Yes; but then who’ll be a father to my 
children ? 

ELSIE. 

Yours can be sort of orphans; they 
need n’t ever have had any father. 


74 


THE SMART SET 


TERESA. 

(. Approaching a tearful state .) No, that ’s 
awfully sad. I want my children to have a 
father, too ! 

BOB. 

Never mind. Pll be their father besides. 

ELSIE. 

Let ’s play house. 

TERESA. 

Let ’s ! 

BOB. 

Let ’s play Indians, and I ’ll scalp you two 
girls ! 

ELSIE. 

No, that’s too rough. We’ll play husband 
and wife. Bob and I will get married, and, 
Teresa, you must be the minister and a 
bridesmaid. 

( They retire into the house , where , with the 
aid of a wrapper , a night dress , a bouquet , and 
a black mackintosh , the ceremony is properly per- 
formed , ,) 


THE SMART SET 


75 


ELSIE. 

Now we’ll have a little girl baby, and (to 
Teresa ) you must be it. 

TERESA. 

No, I want to be the wife now, and you 
be the baby. 

ELSIE. 

No, I ’ll be the husband, and let Bob be 
the baby. 

BOB. 

I won’t be the baby ! 

TERESA. 

Anyway, it is n’t polite for a little baby to 
come right away like that. They never do. 

ELSIE. 

That’s so; you have to wait till the news 
that they want one gets up to the skies. 


76 THE SMART SET 


III 

Death 

Teddy and Elsie are in the drawing-room , which 
is shadowy and sad with the drawn cur- 
tains. The children speak in half whispers , 
and with an air of importance. 

TEDDY. 

It ’s going to be in here. 

ELSIE. 

Is n’t it awful. ( Sobs .) 

TEDDY. 

Papa was a brick! 

ELSIE. 

(Sob.) Now he ’s an angel. 

TEDDY. 

( Thoughtfully .) Do you really think papa 
would like being an angel? 


THE SMART SET 


77 


ELSIE. 

Everybody likes to be an angel. 

TEDDY. 

I do n’t. 

ELSIE. 

O Teddy! 

TEDDY. 

It sounds stupid to me, like Sunday all the 
week. Besides, papa won’t have any office 
there, and what ’ll he do without an office? 

ELSIE. 

Is n’t it awful. ( Sob .) Poor papa! 

TEDDY. 

( Swallowing a lump.') Do n’t cry! 

[ There is a slight noise overhead. 

ELSIE. 

O Teddy! What was that? 

TEDDY. 

( Trembling.) Do n’t be afraid! 
iyHe puts his arm comfortingly around her , and 
they sit in a huge arm-chair together .) 


THE SMART SET 


, ELSIE. 

What is it like to be dead. 

TEDDY. 

It ’s like school all the time, never letting 
out, and no recess. 

ELSIE. 

( With another sob.) Poor papa! Are you 
afraid of him now? 

TEDDY. 

No 

ELSIE. 

Do you want to go up and see him? 
TEDDY. 

No. That is n’t him anyway upstairs! 

ELSIE. 

Yes, it ’s him; only his soul is n’t there. 
TEDDY. 

Do you believe it ? Say, if that ’s true, 
how did his soul get out ? 


THE SMART SET 


79 


ELSIE. # 

I ’ve thought of that. This is what I be- 
lieve: When people die, God kisses them, and 
their soul comes right out of their lips to 
God’s. 

TEDDY. 

I ’ll never play be dead with you, anymore. 


ELSIE. 

No, I do n’t want to, either. 

TEDDY. 

God might think I really was dead, and I 
might lose my soul. 

ELSIE. 

You can ’t make believe with God. 


TEDDY. 


That ’s so; I forgot. I say, Elsie, I’m 
never going to be wicked again in all my 
life. 


* 


Nor I. 


ELSIE. 


8o 


THE SMART SET 


.TEDDY. 

Oh ! girls never are wicked. I believe when 
we die Death comes along and pulls us by 
our feet; that’s why our souls go out. 
They ’re afraid of Death. 

( Elsie shudders , and nestles closer to her brother .) 

TEDDY. 

Don’t be afraid; I won’t let him catch 
you. 

ELSIE. 

Poor mama, she cries all the time. 

TEDDY. 

And she won’t eat. 

ELSIE. 

I know where there are some little cakes. 
TEDDY. 

[Eagerly.) Could you get them? 

ELSIE. 

Not alone. I ’m afraid. 


THE SMART SET 


Si 


TEDDY. 

I ’ll go with you. ( They get down out of the 
big chair.') Do we go to school the next day 
after it? 

ELSIE. 

Yes; and wear all black, fobs.) Poor 
papa. 

TEDDY. 

(Choking.) Do n’t cry. 

ELSIE. 

You ’re crying too. 

TEDDY. 

No, I ain’t! (Crying.) 

(She kisses him. He is comforted , but very 
much ashamed.) 

ELSIE. 

Do you think we can go to the circus next 
week just the same? 

TEDDY. 

I don’t care about circuses now. 


82 


THE SMART SET 


ELSIE. 

Neither do I. I do n’t want to go any- 
way. Let ’s find the cakes. 

TEDDY. 

And then we ’ll make a coach out of the 
chairs, and you ’ll drive me four in hand. 

[ They go out of the room smiling. 


Maternity 

Three Letters and a Cable from 
Mrs. Stanton, a Widow 



THE SMART SET 


§5 


1 

To Robert N. Stanton , Esq., her son ( and only 
child') 

Venice, Thursday. 

My Darling Boy: 

Your letter reached me a few moments ago. 
We were just starting off to see the Tinto- 
rettos in the Scuola, but I opened your 
envelope before I stepped into the gondola, 
and read enough in the first few lines to let 
the others go on without me. 

First, let me say this; no one in all the 
world wishes you more joy, more real happi- 
ness, than your mother. I wish it more than 
anything else in the world, and have prayed 
for it for you every night of my life since 
you first came into this world. And I ’ve 
always counted a wife for you as one of the 
chief joys of your future. I have always 
wanted you to marry, only I have always 
said to myself — not yet; I can’t spare him 
yet. Mothers begin their children’s lives by 


86 


THE SMART SET 


being the most unselfish beings in the world; 
and then, as we grow older, I ’m afraid we 
are inclined to go to the other extreme. I 
won’t tell a falsehood and say I am glad you 
are going to be married now. Forgive me, 
dear, forgive me; but in my heart there is 
still the same cry — “Not yet! not yet!” 

Oh, I know I ’m wrong! It is to be, and 
I accept it; but it seems so sudden; and, 
after all, I was so unprepared, and you are 
my life, dear — my everything. You must let 
me sigh just a little ; I ’ll promise to be all 
smiles at the wedding. When you first 
laughed in the sun, and twinkled your baby 
eyes at the stars I was not a very happy woman. 
Y ou were only six months old when I divorced 
your father. (How much I have regretted that 
step since. It would have been far better 
had I borne with him. He was the only man 
in the world for me; and he would have come 
back to me if I had only waited. Then, instead 
of dying wretchedly miserable as he did, he 
might have been alive to-day, and we would 
be companions for each other; but I was 
proud and wilful — however, enough of that.) 


THE SMART SET 87 

As I said : when you were a tiny baby I was 
an unhappy woman, with an heart empty and 
bruised. How I hugged you to it ! O never, 
never can I tell you, nor can you imagine, the 
comfort, the blessing you became to me! 
Your butterfly-like little kisses made well 
all the bruises; your little hands, with their 
soft, flower-like caresses, smoothed away the 
troubles, and before long you seemed to have 
crept in, little body, little soul, into my heart, 
till you filled it completely. And now I 
must share — Oh, we are selfish, we mothers! 
for I want all — all ! I used to be a little 
jealous, in those early days, even of your 
nurse. Do you know, Rob, that I bathed 
my baby every morning of your little life, so 
long as you took infant tubs? I wouldn’t 
leave it to anyone else ; and for more than one 
year of your life, in the middle of each night 
and early morning, I warmed over a little spirit 
lamp (I have it yet) your preparation of milk, 
and fed it to you, so that you would get your 
food from me in one way, if the doctor 
would n’t let me feed you as I hungered to do. 
How soon it was you knew me. I could make 


88 


THE SMART SET 


you smile when no one else could; and 
what a joy it was to see a love for me 
coming into your infantile existence. I had 
cried a good deal before you were born, and 
some afterward, first out of relief and then 
for pure gladness. But under your dear 
influence I gradually forgot how tears came. 
You almost never cried; and what a good baby 
you were — oh, a blessed baby! — and I tried 
to repay you by not worrying you with too 
many kisses, with too much loving, which 
I ’m sure is not good for a child. Sometimes 
I had to clench my hands, so strong was my 
desire to take you up and clasp you tight. 
Then how quickly you began to grow; and 
before long my letters and intimate conversa- 
tion began to be filled with what u Rob said this 
morning;” and you did say such delightful 
things ! I never knew so naively witty a 
child ! And soon you reached the age when 
I could play the role of comforter. The 
knocks and bruises I ’ve healed by kissing 
them ! — do you remember one-third ? I ’m 
sure I do n’t. The many imagined slights of 
your little friends, which were forgotten on my 


THE SMART SET 89 

lap ! The little aches and pains that were 
slept away in my arms ! How full my life 
was then ! What a blessed boy you were ! 
And then those half-lonely years, when every- 
one frightened me — by saying you would be 
spoiled — into sending you away to school. 
I begrudge those months I spent without you 
yet. But how we enjoyed the vacations ! 
That ’s when we began reading together again 
real stories, not those of the younger days. 
Do you remember your favorite when a very 
'small boy ? We always read it when you 
were n’t feeling very well, or after you ’d 
been punished for being naughty, sitting to- 
gether in the great big old rocking-chair. 
It was about two poor little fatherless boys 
whose mother died in a garret, and they 
were so terribly poor they had to beg a coffin 
for her, and they alone followed it to the 
grave. There was a very trying and sad 
woodcut of the two little orphans doing this, 
and we always cried together over it. It 
was n’t a healthy story for a small boy, and I 
do n’t know how we got hold of it. Oh 
yes, I do ! It was published by the Tract 


9 ° 


THE SMART SET 


Society, and had a moral. It was your aunt 
sent it to you, but I have forgotten the moral. 
The football period began in the school vaca- 
tions, and went all through college ; but still 
I think you were always more fond of books 
and music than athletics ; and I was never 
good at outdoor sports ; I only managed to 
master tennis so as to be able to play with 
you. 

The four years of college had some loneli- 
ness in them, too ; but I enjoyed my visits to 
Williamstown, and then is when I began 
going into “society” a good deal again, for 
I said when Rob comes out he will want to 
go. He will have at least three cotillon 
years, and I want him to go in the best 
society we have. Besides, there is sure to 
be a wife ; let her be a girl of our own posi- 
tion and class. But the dearest parts of your 
college life were our four trips abroad during 
the summer. And then it was that I began 
to turn the tables, and when / was tired to 
lean on you , and when disagreeable things 
happened to let you take mother in your 
arms and hold her there till she promised to 


TH*E SMART SET 


9 1 

forget them. Then it was when your 
judgment began to mature, and I found it so 
clear and good, and have been guided by it 
ever since. Oh, those perfect years between 
the day you graduated and now! How 
proud I was of you, too, in society. It 
seemed to me no one was so brilliant a 
talker at a dinner table. It was all I could ever 
do to listen to my neighbor instead of straining 
my ears across the table in your direction. And 
I am sure it was not maternal prejudice that 
picked you out in a ball room, for it was not 
I who made you leader of all the cotillons 
so long as you cared to dance them. Then 
how more proud I was of you when you 
interested yourself in politics. I love my 
country. Your father fought, and bravely, 
in the civil war; so did my brother. And I 
know if such a terrible calamity as another 
war should befall us, you would be ready. 
The patriot fights for his country, in peace, 
in politics, and I am happy to say your inter- 
est in our government is as keen and active 
to-day as ever. Then there is the ever in- 
creasing success in your profession — have n’t 


92 


THE SMART SET 


I been through it all with you ! Never, I 
am sure, were a mother and son more sym- 
pathetic. The reason I came abroad this 
year was because I was afraid we were 
getting too dependent on each other. I 
realized you now preferred staying home 
with me evening after evening instead of 
going out. I loved it, but I knew it was 
wrong. I argued if I went away for a little 
you would go out into society again, and to 
your clubs, seeking companionship. It was 
not good for a young man — I said to myself 
— not more than thirty-three, to be spend- 
ing all of his spare time with an old woman 
— for practically I am that, though you must 
never call me so; it would break my heart! 
And so, though it was really an awful break 
for me to do it, I went away, and the only 
thing I wanted to happen did, only more. Oh, 
yes ! more than I wanted — because I did n’t 
want you to marry — not yet! And if I 
had n’t gone away you would probably never 
have met this Miss Stone, and you would 
have been just as happy. For you were 
happy with me before you met her ; were n’t 


THE SMART SET 


93 


you ? Oh, of course, I know not so happy, 
and not in the same way, but later on you 
would have met perhaps Miss Stone, or 
somebody else you would have cared for in 
the same way; do n’t you think so? I am 
afraid, if I let myself, I ’d be sorry I went 
away. And yet no — no; I ’m not so selfish 
as all that. If you really have found the one 
woman in the world for you I will try to be 
glad. I will be glad. I am glad ! There! 
I am. After all it is your happiness. How 
unhappy I should feel if you loved her and 
she had n’t returned your love ! Yes, it is 
much better as it is — for you , so it must be 
for me, too. Allowing even for all a lover’s 
enthusiasm, Miss Stone must be very charm- 
ing and very lovable. I can see it in her picture, 
too, which I thank you for sending. Of 
course, without it I should have been cruelly 
anxious to see what she was like. She is 
very pretty — very. I am obliged to confess 
that. I think I shall come to love her for 
her own sake, and not only for yours. If 
only she will love me ! You love me more 
than I deserve or merit, so do n’t say too 


94 


THE SMART SET 


much about me or she will be sure to be 
disappointed. 

If I must be a mother-in-law (horrid 
name), I want to be a nice one and be loved. 
I shall do my best. Only it is the giving 
you up. O Rob, darling ! What shall I 
do without you — without my blessed son ? 
Breakfast alone, luncheon alone, dinner alone, 
everything alone ! Ah, I can’t bear the 
thought of it! No! No! I don’t mean 
that! But of course I can’t and won’t live 
with you — it ’s very kind and like you, dear, 
to say I must, but I don’t believe in that. 
You ’ll see enough of me, I ’m sure, as it is. 
And I shall have my memories. Baby and 
boy, you are mine alone. I did n’t have 
to share you then; and I won’t have to share 
the memories now, and no one can take 
them away from me. And what if you make 
me a grandmother? It isn’t at all sure. 
Everybody does n’t have babies now, like 
they used to. Still, if you do ! Well, I 
shall probably adore it. But then I must 
settle down, wear caps, and perhaps revive a 
widow’s veil. 1 certainly shall have to be 


THE SMART SET 


95 

more dignified and not go gallivanting about 
everywhere, and control some of my enthusi- 
asms, or I shall be a ridiculous old creature. 
You see, I have always kept your age. Now 
I must take one awful flying leap to my own; 
and then go along with myself properly. I 
shall have to become much more regular 
about church and know all the saints’ days. 
A good thing that will be for me, too, I ’m 
sure — What do you think? They ’ve just 
knocked on the door and told me it is dinner 
time. I ’ve been three hours over this dis- 
graceful letter. I knew I ’d been dreaming * 
a good deal between sentences; but I didn’t 
know it was so bad as all that. Well, I ’m 
going down to tell the others my good news 
(you understand that good , do n’t you ? ), and 
we ’ll drink to the health and happiness of 
you both in some crimson Chianti. And they 
shall all see how happy I am over your hap- 
piness. For I am. And you will see it, 
too, when I come back; which will be as 
soon as I can. 

* The words “and crying” are well scratched over, 
so he could n’t possibly read them. 


9 6 THE SMART SET 

Good bye, my boy. Forgive your old 
mother if she ’s seemed a little cross in this 
letter, because she is n’t really. I shall write 
Miss Stone a little letter to-night. God 
bless you and her (and me), and fill your 
lives as full of happiness as your hearts can 
hold and mine can hold for you ! Good 
night, my comfort, you best son in the world ! 

Your devoted 

Mother. 

Yes, yes, I am glad, dear; so glad. Do n’t 
misunderstand my letter. Your mother is 
glad, honestly and with — yes, I can say it 
now — with all her heart. 


THE SMART SET 


97 


II 

A Cable to her son. ( Sent fifteen minutes after 
the preceding letter .) 

Overjoyed, congratulations, love. 

Mother. 


98 THE SMART SET 




III 

Letter to Miss Lucy Stone , Troy, N. T. 

Venice, Thursday. 

My dear Miss Stone: 

So you are going to take my boy away 
from me? I begrudge him, just a little, or 
just a good deal; but I will tell you a secret. 
I feel pretty sure that when I know you, I 
shall be grateful to him, instead of grudging, 
for giving me you for a daughter; and you 
must love me, for after all if it was n’t for 
me you would n’t have him, would you ? He 
has been a perfect son, and they make per- 
fect husbands. And he loves you, my dear. 
Oh, if you had any doubts of it — which of 
course you have n’t, or I shouldn’t like you — 
but if you had, could you have read over my 
shoulder his letter to me to-day telling me 
about it. 

I am very impatient to know you, but I 
think we shall be great friends, through Rob, 
before we even meet. Till then believe me 


THE SMART SET 


99 

your — dear me, what? — your Robert’s affec- 
tionate old mother. 

Katherine Miles Stanton. 

I am sending with this a little old jewel I 
found at an old shop the other day; it is a 
love ring of the sixteenth century. Perhaps 
you will find a place for it. I send it with 
my love. K. M. S. 


IOO 


THE SMART SET 


IV 

Letter to Mrs. Henry A. Austin , Troy , N. T. 

Venice, Thursday. 

Dear Gertrude: 

You will be very much surprised to hear 
from me, I imagine, as a correspondence is 
something we could never keep up. But our 
friendship has lasted without it a long time, 
my dear girl — forty-two years — for we met 
when I was fourteen. I have n’t forgotten 
yet how the whole school became bearable 
after you took possession of the other little 
white cot in my room. It ’s a year and a half 
now since I ’ve seen you, and I ’ve missed 
you. Troy is so near; and yet, after all, it 
is so far, too, when we realize how seldom 
we meet. You must give me a whole winter 
soon! Yes, for I am going to be alone; 
Rob is going to marry, and that ’s why I am 
writing you. It is to a Miss Lucy Stone, of 
Troy. Do write me about her. Do you 
know the family? Are they friends of yours? 


THE SMART SET 


IOI 


Rob is fearfully and wonderfully in love; and 
I can ’t blame him after seeing her picture. 
She is lovely (and charmingly dressed), and 
I am sure Rob would never fall in love with 
any one but a lady. Still, I want to know if 
she, or rather her family, are really smart 
people, or what. Even if they are “what,” 
I ’m sure it won’t make any difference to 
Rob, and so it must n’t make any difference 
to me. But it will be a relief to know that 
they are friends of yours, or even that you 
know them. I pretend not to believe in class 
distinctions, and I don’t; but when it comes 
to your own son, somehow or other you do 
want him to choose his wife among his own 
social equals. Between you and me I am 
just about broken-hearted. I know it is very 
wrong of me, but I had sort of let myself 
grow very dependent upon him, and always 
had looked upon his marriage much as one 
looks upon death, as inevitable, but always 
remote and the end of all things. It still 
seems like the end of all things, but in time 
I shall get used to it. I feel simply ashamed 
of myself for feeling as I do now. Of course, 


102 


THE SMART SET 


if it were given me the choice, u your son’s 
happiness, woman, or your own selfish com- 
fort,” I would n’t hesitate a moment, but it ’s 
so hard for a mother who has spent such 
happy years with her son to realize that his 
happiness does altogether and absolutely de- 
pend on some one else, and on that one and 
no other? And then we always have that 
terrible doubt, — has he chosen the right 
woman for him? Just as if he was n’t, after 
all, the best judge for himself. Of course he 
is; and in time I know I shall be able to 
thank God he made this choice, but just now 
— just to-night — it seems to me I come 
nearer to envying you your childless wifehood 
than I would ever have thought possible. 

Being in this sentimental, unreal city, 
does n’t help me any! Forgive this, I ’m 
afraid morbid, letter, and believe me affection- 
ately always — write me the truth — your 
school girl friend, Kitty. 

Have they any position whatever in Troy? 


A Letter of Introduction 

Four Letters 


I. From Mrs. Joslyn of New York to 
Mrs. Lemaire of Washington. 

II. The same. 

III. From Mrs. Lemaire to Mrs. Joslyn. 

IV. From Mr. Hamilton-Locks to the 

Hon. Forbes Redding of England. 



THE SMART SET 


!°5 


I 

Letter from Mrs. Joslyn of New York to Mrs. 
Lemaire of Washington , unsealed and un- 
stamped. 

Friday. 

My Dear Mrs. Lemaire: 

I am very happy to introduce to you Mr. 
Hamilton-Locks, of London, a friend of mine, 
who goes to Washington for the first time. I 
know I am giving you both a pleasure in 
bringing you together, and any courtesy you 
may be able to extend to Mr. Hamilton- 
Locks will be as if shown to me also. 

Always sincerely, 

Emily Joslyn. 


io6 


THE SMART SET 


II 

A second Letter from Mrs. Joslyn to Mrs. Le- 
maire , sent with a special delivery stamp. 

Friday. 

My Dear Mrs. Lemaire : 

I gave a letter of introduction to you to a 
young Englishman this morning. I hasten to 
write, and beg you, as far as I am concerned, 
to pay no attention whatever to it. He was 
sent over to us by Lady Heton, a traveling 
acquaintance, whom we know really nothing 
of, and it ’s been a great bother trying to be 
civil and everything else to him. I felt 
obliged to give him the letter, but you will 
understand by this that you are to ignore it 
quite as much as you like. He is no friend 
of ours whatever, merely an acquaintance 
that has been forced upon us. 

We hear you are having such a gay season 
in Washington. We think of taking a house 
there for next winter. Can you manage to 
keep out of the political set if you want to ? 


THE SMART SET 1 107 

I do n’t mind ambassadors, but I should think 
all the other people would be most ordinary. 
I suppose you will come on for the Makeway 
Ball; won’t you ? If so, do lunch with me the 
day after; do n’t forget. 

Yours, ever sincerely, 

Emily Joslyn. 


' io8 


THE SMART SET 


; 


III 

Letter from Mrs. Lemaire to Mrs. Joslyn. 

Wednesday. 

My dear Mrs. Joslyn: 

Where is your young Englishman ? I 
adore young Englishmen, and why does n’t 
yours come to see me ? Did you give him 
the letter? He has been in Washington a 

week, is constantly at the P ’s, and all the 

diplomatic corps are entertaining him. The 
women are mad about him, he’s so awfully 
good-looking. 

If you want a house in Washington next 
winter why not rent ours ? We are going 
to Rome in December. 

Yours, always cordially, 

Gertrude Lemaire. 


THE SMART SET 


109 


IV 

Letter from Mr. Hamilton- Locks to the Hon. 

Forbes Redding. 

Washington, January, ’97. 
My dear Old Chap: 

This place is a very good sort, rather like 
a little English Paris; more cosmopolitan 
than Boston, I mean, tho’ no other city here 
seems quite so lively as New York. The 
embassy is giving me no end of a good time. 
Pm sure Pm more than grateful to your 
uncle. I find society in this place is more 
like European without trying to be, while in 
New York they try more, and aren't. New 
York society has an air of its own, and, I must 
say, it ’s a damn fine air, too. Of course, like 
other places, it has some frumps, and what 
Blanche Heton meant by giving me a letter 
to a Mrs. Joslyn is more than meets the eye. 
But we are not burnt twice by the same 
flame. The lady gave me in turn a letter to 
some one here, and I was so afraid Pd for- 


I IO 


THE SMART SET 


get and use it by mistake, or leave it at 
the woman’s door one day when I’d been 
drinking a good many whiskeys and sodas and 
did n’t care what I did, that I tore it into bits 
and dropped them in an umbrella stand in 
Mrs. Joslyn’s hall five minutes after she 
gave it to me. There ’s no use in running 
any risks. And when a woman over here is 
stupid she ’s damn stupid. So is she superla- 
tively fetching when she is charming. And, 
by Jove ! but they know how to draw the 
line — all but Mrs. Joslyn. 

People over on this side think every Eng- 
lishman comes over after a wife, and at first 
they pretend to be very haughty and inde- 
pendent, and then if they find out he is not 
after a wife after all, like your humble ser- 
vant, they are quite angry about it. 

I hope you ’re keeping an eye on my dogs 
for me. Love to Millicent. Yours, 

Ted. 


Wagner, 1897 


/ 




THE SMART SET 


1 T 3 


A Letter from Lady Aires to the Countess of 
TJpham , at Homburg. 

Bayreuth, Aug., 1897. 

My dear Rose : 

Our stay at Bayreuth is nearly over — the 
last opera to-morrow; and, to be frank, I am 
extremely glad, although of course it has 
been perfectly charming. First we heard 
Parsifal and the Ring; which is four 
operas, you know. Why they call them a 
“ Ring ” I can ’t see yet; and I do n’t like to 
ask, it gives the musical people who really 
know the chance to be so superior, and they 
are conceited enough as it is, goodness knows. 
Anyone would think it was a disgrace not to 
have been lullabyed to sleep when a baby by 
a symphony orchestra ! I ’m sure it is n’t my 
fault if I do n’t know which is Schumann and 
which is Schubert; and what ’s the difference? 
(Between you and me I do n’t care. Of 
course I adore music, but it ’s like a great 
many other things — you must n’t ask too 


H4 THE SMART SET 

many questions !) Well the first day was 
“Parsifal.” It ’s a dear! Beautiful, perfectly 
beautiful ! I wore my white mulle with 
my green and white hat, and if I do say it 
(and I must, for I ’m sure no one else will say 
it for me), women are such jealous cats about 
frocks. I did n’t see a better turned out 
woman. Such a tremendous lot of smart peo- 
ple as are here, too. Really you ought to have 
come. I ’m sure you would have enjoyed it. 
Between the acts it ’s quite like Sunday in the 
park. The entre-acts are very long, giving us 
a chance to shake out our frocks and wake 
up and amuse ourselves. Some people go up 
a little hill, or into some pine woods; but 
that’s rather dull, for you do n’t meet half so 
many others — most everyone stays in front of 
the theatre. But I must tell you about 
“ Parsifal.” In the first place it is awfully 
long. And Parsifal himself is entirely too 
fat ! I am sure such a very good young per- 
son as Parsifal should n’t have a stomach ! 
There are a lot of sort of monks in rather 
fetching pink red cloaks, with pale bluey 
gray skirts underneath. (Not at all a bad 


THE SMART SET 


IX 5 

combination, and gave me an idea for a cos- 
tume for up the river.) Their chief is ill, and 
almost always in great pain, but it does not 
prevent his singing the longest of speeches. 
Parsifal kills a lovely swan — it flies in so 
naturally. Really Wagner was a most won- 
derful man ! Then there is a Gypsy girl ; 
a sort of snake charmer, who has bottles of 
things all through the play. I could n’t 
make out quite if she were Parsifal’s mother 
or what. But she is quite mad, and wears 
only a very uninteresting old brown dress. I 
must' make this criticism of Wagner: You 
do n’t see many pretty dresses in his operas. 
Then everyone goes to a banqueting 
hall, which is also partly a church. The 
scenery moves along in a most miraculous 
way and the hall is really very lovely. There 
are children in this scene, and they lift the 
chalice, and it glows — an electric light in it 
you know, but it’s really lovely. And the 
music is simply heavenly. I assure you I 
cried like a baby at this part; I could n’t tell 
you why, unless it ’s the poor wretched crea- 
ture (Am — something his name is; I can’t 


ii 6 THE SMART SET 

find my programme). He ’s very handsome. 
I intend to buy his photograph. He has to 
lift the holy cup, and he feels he is unfit to do 
it. He is a sinner and wishes he were dead, 
and somehow or other you feel awfully sym- 
pathetic with him. I know the times I ’ve 
been to church and knelt down so ashamed 
I could n’t lift my head, thinking of some 
of the beastly wicked things I ’ve done in 
my life. And that ’s just what the second 
act is. A crowd of women try to seduce 
Parsifal, but they are all German chorus 
women, and it really does n’t seem such a 
great temptation. 

But then the girl who was ugly in the 
other act comes on very beautiful (but hid- 
eously dressed, why do n’t they get Worth or 
Doucet, I wonder, to help them?) and she 
sings a great deal and very loud, and kisses 
Parsifal, and then everything goes suddenly 
to wrack and ruin. I shall never dare kiss 
any very good young man again — not after 
that! In the last act, this same creature, 
looking more like Act I., washes Parsifal’s 
feet. I should hate to play that part, but 


THE SMART SET 


1 x 7 

it ’s all very pretty and affecting, and the 
music — well there are no words to describe 
it. And the whole rest of the act is too 
wonderful ! Really you have to cry. Of 
course, it ’s too long, and you ’re awfully 
hungry, but there is a rather smart restau- 
rant now, where everybody goes afterward 
to get their spirits back; which reminds me 
that Mrs. Gordon turned up yesterday and ap- 
peared at the restaurant at night, affording us a 
good deal of amusement. First she started to 
courtesy to the Royalties, who don’t want to 
be noticed. This she perceived in the middle 
of her courtesy, and cut it short in a quick 
way, which made her look exactly as if some- 
thing important in her toilet had burst or 
broken. Then she flew all over from room 
to room, trying to find a table that suited her, 
disturbing the whole atmosphere, like meteors 
are said to do in the skies, and creating the 
impression, or trying to, that she owned the 
entire place. She won’t be happy here, for 
it is n’t easy for anyone else to own anything 
where Frau Wagner is installed; which re- 


1 18 THE SMART SET 

minds me to stop this gossip and tell you 
seriously about the other operas. 

The first of the Ring is the Valkyrie; you 
can remember it because of Lord Dunraven’s 
yacht. And they swim around in the water; 
which is, I suppose, why he called it so. But 
no; on second thoughts, that is n’t it at all. 
The first opera is Rheingold, and it ’s the Rhine 
maidens that go swimming about. How absurd 
of Dunraven to have made such a mistake. 
I like the Rheingold awfully. The first act 
looks just like water, and the music is so 
pretty. Then, in the second act, there are two 
splendid big men — one in white, the other in 
black bear skins — who are rather fetching. 
The Rheingold is the least sociable of the 
operas, as there is no entre-act. But it is for- 
tunately a great deal the shortest. I think it 
is one of my favorites. I seem to know more 
what Wagner is about in it. I do n’t believe 
he knows himself what he is about some of the 
time in the Valkyrie. This second opera is 
awfully long. However, it has two good 
entre-acts, when you can walk around and 
talk to everybody; and I can assure you we 


THE SMART SET 


IX 9 

have plenty to say after having been kept 
quiet for over an hour in the dark theatre. 
The chairs are so uncomfortable, and if you 
move somebody hisses. There is not much 
politeness in Bayreuth. We don’t get as 
good a view of the stage as some people, but 
we have splendid places; the Countess of 

is in front of us, her sister right beside 

me, and behind are the s, and near by 


Lady 


So you see we could n’t possi- 


bly have better seats. 

For the Valkyrie I wore a new mauve and 
pale green frock. I do n’t think you ’ve 
seen it. The bill was atrocious. I sha’ n’t 
pay it ; but the costume is a great success. 
Portions of this second opera are awfully 
tiresome, first one couple and then another, 
going on for hours about nothing, but there 
are some exquisite clouds that move and 
grow and scatter exactly like nature, only 
more so, and make up a little for the dull 
people. I notice one thing : all the gods and 
goddesses have always such troubles. There 
is n’t a single happy creature among them, 
not even Wotan, who is god of them all, and 


120 


THE SMART SET 


wears a silly gold curl over one eye. I think 
it lowers his whole dignity; but they make a 
great many mistakes like that. Of course, 
one ought n’t to think of these things, but 
should simply listen to and enjoy the beautiful 
music, but my nature is so sensitive I can ’t 
help it. There are a lot of Valkyrie, you 
know, who wear a sort of antique dress- 
reform costume, not pretty, and ride through 
the air on deliciously funny-looking horses. 
And Brunhilde, the leader of them, a rather 
nice person, behaves quite like a human 
being in “ Siegfried,” the next opera, which 
I will tell you about later. In “Valkyrie” 
you think she is going to be burnt up, but in 
u Siegfried ” she is saved after all. I sup- 
pose there is some sort of Biblical idea about 
hell. You recognized the Bible very often 
in “ Parsifal.” I much prefer Siegfried as a 
person to Parsifal. He ’s not such a very 
good boy. There ’s more an air of athletics, 
football, rowing, and all that about Siegfried, 
while Parsifal smacks just a little, I think, of 
the Young Men’s Christian Association. 
You can kiss Siegfried with impunity, too; in 


THE SMART SET 


1 2 1 


fact, it saved Brunhilde’s life, and I would n’t 
mind running a few risks myself to be saved 
in the same way ! You get perfectly drunk 
with this music of the last act of Siegfried. 
Of course, my dear, you know I am now 
writing about the third opera, “Siegfried.” 
You must follow me closely, for it’s very 
easy to get confused about them. “ Sieg- 
fried ” is awfully long, too, and the first act 
— well, I do n’t mind telling you I slept a 
good deal. You see, the theatre gets so 
stuffy, and then one is digesting one’s lunch- 
eon, and the stage is so dark, and I maintain 
that the music soothes you. I wore, of 
course, another dress, something quiet, as it 
was rainy, but I saw no one who looked any 
better. Between the first and second acts I 
managed to get a bow and a hand-shake from 
the Prince, to the visible envy of Mrs. Gor- 
don. I wish you could see the dear beast. 
She flutters around the royalties every min- 
ute, like a nervous bird, and as if they were 
her nest of eggs and a bad little boy was in 
the neighborhood. I hate snobs; do n’t you ? 
I am lunching, by the way, with Mrs. G. 


122 THE SMART SET 

to-morrow. Quite a big, smart party of us, 
I hear. 

That funny dragon comes in u Siegfried,” 
you know, and of course it is much more 
amusing here than in Covent Garden or 
New York. But it ’s the last act that I 
love f Such passionate music ! Brunhilde 
falls madly in love with Siegfried, who is, of 
course, ever so many years younger than she. 
But it ’s just like us women, especially when 
we are Brunhilde’s age. For I suppose she’s 
forty something, as she was grown up and 
went to sleep before Siegfried was born, and 
when he kisses her he seems to be quite a 
man ! By the way, Brunhilde was put to 
sleep for interfering somehow or other in 
the love affairs of Siegfried’s mother and 
father, who are really sister and brother. If 
you think of it, the story is extremely in- 
decent, but operatic things never seem to be 
shocking ; music, apparently, covers a mul- 
titude of naughtiness, like charity is reported 

to do. Very likely that ’s why Mrs. 

is always doing so much for institutions and 
what not — for her sins, I suppose. I always 


THE SMART SET 


123 


thought she was a naughty old hypocrite ! 
By the way, there is a comic character in 
u Siegfried/’ and in one of the others, I for- 
get which, called Mime — a funny little dwarf, 
the sort of thing they put in a Christmas 
pantomime to amuse the children. 

Later. 

I have just come from the ct Gotterdam- 
merung,” the last opera, and I am completely 
exhausted. I am as if I were in a dream, 
and can only think and feel and write of this 
beautiful, beautiful music and scenery. I am 
absolutely absorbed in it. Some people took 
the train for Nuremberg right after the per- 
formance. I am sure I never could have. 
I really can’t believe they felt the thing. 
Our train goes at 1:45. Such a nice hour; 
one does n’t have to hurry in the morning, 
and can have one’s hair done properly. I 
have a charming new way of doing the hair. 
I got it from a Frenchwoman who sat just in 
front of me in the theatre to-day, and when 
it was light enough I studied the arrangement 
till I got it by heart. You want something 


124 


THE SMART SET 


like that to do during the long duets. Other- 
wise your attention is apt to wander from the 
opera, or you get sleepy. To go back to the 
opera, it began with the same scene that 
Siegfried finished with, which was rather dis- 
appointing, but a real horse came on and 
behaved as quiet as a lamb, with Brunhilde 
screaming like mad all about him. I suppose 
they put cotton in his ears, or something. 
The scene changed (without letting us go 
out for a rest, which I thought something of 
a sell) to the house, where Siegfried falls in 
love with another woman (Oh, these men !) 
I forgot to tell you, my mind is so full of the 
music, that I wore my new Russell & Allen 
winter frock, and I caught lots of people taking 
it in. But, dear me, how badly the German 
women dress ! I have n’t seen a single chic 
one among them since I’ve been here. I 
do n’t believe I shall come to Bayreuth again. 
Besides, the music is too wearing. The 
Rhine maidens come back in this act ! It is 
most wonderful the way they swim about ! 
But, as far as I can gather, they are rather 
nasty cats. One thing I will say, though: I 


THE SMART SET 125 

think Wagner’s on the side of the women; 
for, in spite of Brunhilde’s being in love with 
little more than a boy, she has all your sym- 
pathies. So has Siegfried, too ; which is odd. 
I really sobbed when he died, he was so 
good-looking, and seemed so sad. This whole 
opera is very depressing. We reach Munich 
to-morrow night at 7 ; and I propose going 
to the Residenz Theatre there, and seeing a 
light opera just for contrast. But how bad 
the shops are at Munich. I believe there are 
some good pictures, but I think one sees so 
many pictures in Europe ; do n’t you ? 

I presume you know Brunhilde behaves 
rather like Dido in the end : nearly every- 
body, more or less, is murdered off, and 
there is a sort of Madame Tussaud exhibi- 
tion in the clouds at the curtain. Of course, 
I have n’t really given you any sort of an 
idea about it at all. There are no words that 
will adequately describe it, only I promised 
to give you a detailed personal account; and 
I have done so. The reason we are going 
to Munich is we can ’t get a sleeper yet, 
everything is so crowded. Is n’t it disgust- 


2 6 


THE SMART SET 


ing. This last opera is rather too noisy at 
times, and awfully long — longer than the 
others. But there ’s a men’s ballet in it that 
is rather nice ; not dancing, you know, but 
singing and posing and walking about, with 
imitation bare legs, most of them. But I 
think the best thing about the opera is it 
leaves you in such an exalted mood. I know 
I won’t be able to think of small or worldly 
things for weeks, much less write about them. 
Before I forget it, be sure and write me if it ’s 

true that Mrs. and Sir George are 

both at Homburg, at the same hotel. I hear 
they are, and there ’s no end of talk about it. 
But then I find there ’s no end of talk about 
everything and everybody. It is not' that 
people mean badly, but one has to pass the 
the time somehow. I think I love best of all 
the Rheingold music. It is like a jeweller’s 
shop window in Bond street ; it seems to 
shine and glitter and sparkle. You see very 
few jewels here in Bayreuth; of course, 
there ’s very little chance to display them. 
Women wear the usual small string of 
pearls. That ’s about all. As most every- 


THE SMART SET 127 

one wore one I wear two, with a different 
pendant each day. I like to be just a little 
original, and keep my own individuality. 

Well, now I must tumble into bed or I 
shall lose my beauty sleep. I ’d hate to have 
my figure get like these German singers. I 
wonder why ! I ’d have myself strapped be- 
tween boards — I ’d do something. Good-bye, 
my dear. Write me all the gossip you can 
get a hold of. I have n’t sent you any in this, 
but that you could n’t expect. It was im- 
possible that this letter should be anything 
but Wagner, Wagner, Wagner. I wish you 
could have been here with me — you ’d have 
seen heaps of your friends. Of course I 
ought to tell you one thing, because I felt it 
myself : there ’s nothing catchy about the 
music. Lovingly, Fanny. 



\ 

















Art 

A Letter 

































THE SMART SET 


* 3 * 


A second Letter from Lady Aires to the Countess 
of JJpham. 

Munich. 

My dear Rose: 

It was very thoughtful of you to write me 
so soon, and Aubrey and I wish very much 
we could join you, but our money is all spent 
and we must hurry back to England, where 
we can economize by making cheap visits 
among our friends for a couple of months. 
In December we go to New York to spend 
the winter with mother. You never go 
home, do you ? 

I am so glad you felt you got so complete 
an idea of Wagner from my letter. I was a 
little afraid I had n’t done the whole thing 
justice, but I assure you there were many 
more people there than I thought of suggest- 
ing, and the operas, tho’ long, are very de- 
lightful. 

Here in Munich the chief thing is the 
picture gallery, as of course at this time of 
year all fashionable society is away and the 


132 


THE SMART SET 


theatres and opera either closed or giving 
second-rate performances. There are more 
musees than you really care to visit, and are 
full of masterpieces, many quite as atrocious 
as masterpieces so often are. The principal 
one — its name begins with a P — is the one 
we ’ve been to. 

I wish you could see the Rubens, or else 
it ’s the Van Dykes — I forget which, but they 
are beautiful; and when one thinks how long 
ago they were painted, it ’s wonderful, is n’t it ? 
One thing awfully interesting about a picture 
gallery is to see the absurd difference in 
women’s dress now and in former times; 
don’t you think so? And sometimes one gets 
ideas for one’s self. 

This particular gallery is altogether one of 
the most satisfactory I ’ve ever been in. It 
was n’t crowded full of Baedeker people and 
that sort of thing. In the second room we 
went in we met Lord and Lady Jenks and 
the Countess of Towns. That was the room 
where we saw a portrait the living image 
of Janet Cowther. We all shrieked with 
laughter! You know how she has what my 


THE SMART SET 




vulgar little brother calls an u ingrowing 
face ” — it sinks in instead of coming out, so 
that the poor creature can’t know what it 
seems like to have a real profile. It *s extra- 
ordinary that there should have been two such 
faces in the world — don’t you think so? — 
even with two or three hundred years between 
them. The portrait was painted by — dear me ! 
I can’t remember, but it was some one we all 
know. There ’s one thing I should n’t mind, 
and that is knowing the lady’s corset maker ; 
I ’d like to give his address to Janet, because, 
my dear, in spite of her face he had made 
the lady’s figure beautiful. I think that ’s 
really the nicest part of a picture gallery — see- 
ing comic likenesses to your friends. 

Lady Jenks and I sat down on an uncom- 
fortable bench without any back and talked 
away for nearly an hour. What an amusing 
creature she is ! Has stories to tell about 
everybody under the sun. By the way, she 
vowed you and your husband got on awfully, 
and only lived together as a matter of form ! 
I took up your cudgels, my dear, and told 
her it wasn’t true in any particular; .that 


*34 


THE SMART SET 


Ned adored you and was an angel. Of course, 
he got drunk — that I knew, as all the world 
did, but you were used to that. It is n’t true, 
is it ? He never struck you ? I ’m sure he 
didn’t ! You’d have told a good friend like 
me ; would n’t you ? 

Well, just as Lady Jenks and I finished 
the others came back from going through all 
the other rooms. We were everyone of us 
dead tired, looking at pictures is so fatiguing. 
We decided to go back to the hotel and have 
tea in the garden. But I think it is a dear gal- 
lery, and to-morrow — we do n’t leave till the 
next day — if we ’ve any time left after doing 
the shops, I intend to go back and see the pic- 
tures all over again. 

Write to Eaton Sqr. ; the servants will 
forward. Poor things, they must have had a 
dull summer ! They say the heat in town 
has been fearful ! But I do n’t think servants 
mind ; do you ? And then they have the run 
of the house. I am sure they use the draw- 
ing-room and sleep in my bed ! 

Good-bye, 


Lovingly, 


Fanny. 


THE SMART SET 135 

Aubrey says Janet’s portrait is by Rem- 
brandt ; but I tell him I don’t think it was 
by a Frenchman at all, I think it was by 
Greuze. 





* 


\ 







s 







4 

) 
















, 





Sorrow 

A Letter 











THE SMART SET 


1 39 ' 


A Letter to Mrs. Carly , Florence , Italy. 

New York, Wednesday. 

My Dear Mary : 

You were right when you said to me, two 
years ago, that the time would come when I 
would realize the futility, the selfish, the absurd 
insufficiency of my life. It is now six months 
^ince I lost my little girl — my only child. I 
thank you so much for your letter; I was sure 
you, who had so much heart, would realize 
more than most people what I suffered and 
feel still. And it need n’t have been — I shall 
always maintain it needn't have been! She 
was overheated at dancing-school and caught 
cold coming home. I was late dressing for 
an early dinner, thought it was nothing, and 
paid no attention. From the dinner I went 
to the opera, from the opera to a ball, on to 
somebody else’s. I was dead tired when I came 
home and fell into bed and asleep. All this 
time, my child, with her cold, was sleeping close 
beside an open window! The maid was care- 


140 


THE SMART SET 


less, of course, but it was n’t her child — it was 
mine — and I hold myself most to blame. In 
two more days the doctor told me she could n’t 
live. I shall never forgive him ! In six 
hours she was dead. I think I went quite 
mad. I know I really felt as if I had 
wantonly murdered her ; and I still feel I was 
myself largely responsible. She was the 
dearest little creature! I am so sorry you 
never saw her. u I love my mamma best, 
and God next,” she kept on saying all that 
last day. One wondered and wondered what 
thought was in her little brain. “ You are 
mother’s darling,” I said to her — “ mother’s 
precious little girl, but God gave you to her, 
so you are God’s first ! ” She threw her arms 
about my neck and kissed me, and said : u I 
like you better than all the little boys at 
dancing-school put together!” She fluttered 
about the bed with her arms like a little tired 
bird ! She made me sing to her. I sang 
hours and hours — lullabies and comic songs 
she liked best. My maid came to me : 
“ Madame is lunching out.” 

I was furious with her for coming to me 


THE SMART SET 141 

with any such remark. “ Telegraph ! ” was all 
I said. “ Telegraph what, madame?” 

“I don't care,” I answered. 

O my dear Mary ! to watch a little soul 
going — a little soul that is all yours, or at least 
that your thought was all yours! To watch 
the light of life fade and fade out of a face 
precious to you, into which you cannot kiss 
the color again; to jyatch this little life, 
dearer to you than your own, slip, slip away 
from you in spite of your hands clutching 
to hold it back, or clasped in prayer to keep 
it ! To sit and lose and be helpless ! Oh, the 
agony of it! Marie came once more; it was 
dark; I guessed her errand, and only looked 
at her. She went away without a word. I 
took the child out of the bed — it was like 
lifting a flower. At dawn she died in my 
arms. Oh, were ever arms so empty as when 
they hold the dead body of someone loved? 

And then began the revelations. The 
stilted letters of condolence, written with 
exactly the same amount of feeling as a note 
of regrets or acceptance, and couched very 
much in the same sort of language. 


142 


THE SMART SET 


One woman recommended her dressmaker 
as being the most chic woman in New York 
for mourning — as if I cared ! A great many 
cards were left at the door with their corners 
turned down, and for awhile no invitations 
came. That was all! Most of the people 
I was unfortunate enough to meet made such 
remarks as — 

“My dear Mrs. Emery, I am so sorry to 
hear of your loss ” (as if the house had been 
burned down or the silver plate had been 
stolen) ; or else — 

“Dear Mrs. Emery, I was so shocked to 
hear it; such a sweet child ! Which was it, 
a boy or a girl? Oh, yes, I remember, a 
boy — a nice creature; but, my dear, so many 
boys turn out badly. You must try and con- 
sole yourself with thinking perhaps you have 
both been saved a world of trouble after all ! ” 

u My child was a little girl,” I answered. 

Another woman came to me, saying: 

“You poor, dear thing! I ’m glad you are 
bearing it so well — you look splendidly. Of 
course you won’t stay in mourning long; 
will you? It’s really not necessary for a 


TH E SMART SET 


H3 


child; and then I think one needs the distrac- 
tions of society to drown one’s sorrows ! ” 

And all in such a flippant tone ! 

There are some who have n’t heard of it 
at all, which seems so strange to me, who 
see and think of nothing else indoor and out! 

And Sue Troyon I shall never forget or 
stop loving as long as I live. She put her 
arms about me and kissed me, when she first 
met me, right in the street, and never said a 
word, but her eyes were wet. She is a woman 
and a friend ! 

So now I am going to join you abroad, to 
travel and live among pictures and music 
and real people. These months out of so- 
ciety have broken the charm. I ’ve tried to 
go back, but I can ’t stand it. The inanities 
of an afternoon At Home are more than I 
can bear. Everybody repeating to each other 
the same absurd commonplaces over and over 
again. Society conversation in one way is 
like a Wagner opera: it is composed of the 
same themes, which recur over and over 
again ; only, in the conversation referred to, 
these themes are deadly, dull, fatuous remarks. 


H4 


THE SMART SET 


As for balls and evening parties, I do n’t care 
about dancing any more, somehow, and to 
see the young debutantes about me almost 
breaks my heart, full of memories of my 
daughter and what she might have been. 
Tears are not becoming to a very low-necked 
dress, and should n’t be worn with powder 
and jewels. No, my dear Mary, I see in 
this society of ours, we all grow so hardened, 
that if we do n’t have some such grief as I 
have had, we become hopeless. People soon 
forgot I had ever had a child, or at least that 
she had n’t been dead for years. I find my- 
self becoming a bore, because of perhaps a 
certain lack of spirit that I used to have; and 
I began to realize that I had never been liked 
for myself, but for what I gave, and for the 
atmosphere of amusement which I helped to 
create by nearly always being gay and 
enjoying myself. As you yourself said of so- 
ciety, it is absolutely unsatisfactory. I never 
knew a purely society woman yet who 
was n’t somewhat or sometimes dissatisfied. 
First, they can ’t go as much or everywhere 
they want; and soon after they have all the 


THE SMART SET 145 

opportunities they desire, they find that is n’t 
sufficient, after all, to make life perfect, and 
then the boredom of fatigue begins to creep 
upon them with the years, and soon old age 
begins like a worm to eat into what happi- 
ness they have had. 

Oh, no ! When I think of how full your 
life is, of the interesting people you know — 
not merely empty names with a fashionable 
address or a coronet on their note paper, — of 
the places you see and the books you read; 
and then hear you say your life is too short 
to see or enjoy a third the world has to offer 
you ! You happy, happy woman you ! 

Well ! The house is for sale ! What fur- 
niture I want to keep stored ! John, who is 
prematurely old and half-dead with trying to 
earn enough money to keep us going as we 
wished in New York, has entered into it all 
in exactly my spirit. He has sold his seat 
on the stock exchange. He has disposed of 
all his business interests here. We find we 
have quite enough income to travel as long 
as we like, moderately, and to live abroad for 
as many years as we please. When we get 


146 


THE SMART SET 


homesick — as we are both sure to, for 
after all we are good Americans — we will 
come back here and settle down quietly in 
some little house, near everybody, but not in 
the whirlpool — on the banks of society, as it 
were, so that when we feel like it we can go 
and paddle in it for a little, just over our 
ankles. Two weeks after you receive this 
letter you will receive us ! We sail on 
Kaiser Wilhelm to Naples. 

No one here knows what to make of us ! 
It ’s absurd the teapot tempest we ’ve cre- 
ated. The verdict finally is that we’ve either 
lost our money or else our minds ! 

With a heart full of love, 

Affectionately, 

Agnes. 


The Theatre 

Four Letters, a Bill, and a Quota- 
tion from a Newspaper 



THE SMART SET 


H9 


I 

A Letter from Mrs. Frederick Strong to her 
Husband. 

... Fifth Avenue, Saturday. 
My Dear Fred : 

You must come home at once. Dick has 
announced his engagement to an actress — a 
soubrette, too, in a farce-comedy. If it had 
been a woman who played Shakespeare, it 
would have been bad enough, but a girl who 
sings and dances and does all sorts of things, 
including wearing her dresses up-side down, as 
it were — that is, too high at the bottom and too 
low at the top — well, this is a little too 
much ! — -just as we were getting a really good 
position in society. If the marriage is n't 
put a stop to, you can be sure she 'll soon 
dance and kick us out of any position what- 
ever that 's worth holding. It is n’t as if we 
had any one to back us; but you never had 
any family, and the least said about mine the 
better, so we have to be our own ancestors. 


150 THE SMART SET 

And just as we had succeeded in getting a 
footing, in placing ourselves so that our chil- 
dren will be all right, your brother must 
go and do his best to ruin it all! You see 
how necessary it is for you to be on the spot. 
We may be able to break the engagement off 
before it is too late. Leave the mine to take 
care of itself, or go to pieces if need be. One 
mine more or less won’t make any difference 
to us. Besides, you must think of your chil- 
dren! Your brother, too; he ’s sure to regret it. 

I am ill over this thing. Can’t sleep, 
and have frightful indigestion. Everybody’s 
talking about it, and the newspapers are full 
this morning. My new costume came home 

from Mme. V ’s yesterday; but there’s 

no pleasure now in wearing it ! 

With love, Annie. 

January 19th. 

And the ball we were going to give next 
month ! What about the ball ? Mrs. W — — 
had promised me we should have some of the 
smartest people here ! This will ruin every- 
thing. Telegraph me when you will come. 
I am suicidal. 


THE SMART SET 


*5 


II 

A Bill. 

Mr. Fred’k Strong, Dr. 

To the Private Detective Agency, 

for services rendered, $ . 

Rec’d payment, 


Feb. ioth, 189-. 


THE SMART SET 


* 5 2 


III 

A Letter from Miss Beatrice North to Richard 
Strong , sent by special delivery to his Club. 

February nth. 

My Darling Dick: 

What is the meaning of this letter from a 
lawyer ? Who has been trying to damage 
my character? To ruin my happiness? 
Who hates me ? I have never willingly 
harmed any one. I can ’t and won’t believe 
this letter was sent with your approval. But 
why did n’t you come to see me yesterday ? 
My dearest in the world, you would n’t be- 
lieve evil stories of me, surely! You to 
whom I have told all my life, everything, for 
there has been nothing to hide. No, no; I 
am sure you do n’t know anything about this 
cruel letter, and for God’s sake hurry and 
tell me so yourself, hurry and tell me so, and 
let me kiss the words as they come to your 
lips. Thine, 

Beatrice. 


THE SMART SET 


*53 


IV 


Letter from the Same to the Same. 

The evidence that you have proves noth- 
ing whatever, and even then much of it is 
exaggerated, which I, in my turn, can prove. 
I shall sue you for breach of promise. 

Beatrice North. 


THE SMART SET 


V 

From the Same to the Same , a day later. 

I will not write to your lawyers. This 
second letter of theirs is too insulting. 
They know very well they could never win 
the case against me. (I am innocent; and 
even if I were not, your evidence is ridicu- 
lously insufficient.) And that is why they 
offer to u settle ” with me privately. But 
my own feelings have changed over night. 
That you could, first, believe the charges 
against me, and second, that you could have 
allowed me to be insulted by your — or 
your brother's — lawyers, as you have 
done, these two things have opened my 
eyes to your own weak contemptible char- 
acter. I am grateful the discovery came be- 
fore it was too late. I release you from your 
engagement to me, and far from bringing a 
suit against you I feel I owe you a debt of 
thanks. I trust this is a sufficient reply to 
your insult to “ settle ” privately. The mat- 
ter is at end with this letter. 

Beatrice North. 


TH E SMART SET 


55 


VI 


Headlines of a Column in a Daily New York 
Paper. 

THE STRONG’S BALL ! 

ALL THE SWELLS THERE ! 
DICK STRONG GETS THE COLD 
SHOULDER FROM MOST 
OF HIS FRIENDS ! 


r • 









* 


/ 7 . 



















I 






















THE SMART SET 


J 59 


Mrs. Sternwall's Box. The First Act of Tris- 
tan and Isolde is three-quarters over. Mr. 
Alfred Easterfelt is seated alone in the corner 
He is bored. 

MR. ALFRED EASTERFELT. 

( To himself after a long sigh.) Damn it ! 
What did I come so early for ? 

(. People are heard by the entire audience enter- 
ing the little ante-room behind. The men’s chorus 
on the stage drowns the sound of artificial laugh- 
ter. The curtains part , and Mr. Easterfelt is 
joined by Mrs. Sternwall, Mrs. Morley, Miss 
Beebar, and Mr. Carn.) 

MRS. MORLEY. 

Seriously .) What a pity we ’ve missed so 
much. 

( There are general greetings , whispered pleas- 
antly. Each person , without exception , glances 
first all about the house , and then turns his 
eyes slowly toward stage. Mrs. Sternwall sits in 


160 THE SMART SET 

the corner, facing the audience with three-quar- 
ters face , as the photographers express it, one- 
quarter toward the singers and mise en scene. 
She beckons Easterfelt to sit behind her . The 
others fall into the other places more or less as they 
happen, the women in front looking lovely, as 
each one is well aware, with her beautiful 
white neck, her jewels, and her charming coif \ 
The music continues .) 

MRS. MORLEY. 

( Suddenly noticing that Mr. Sternwall is not 
with them.') But where is Mr. Sternwall? 

MRS. STERNWALL. 

Oh, Henry always goes across to Hammer- 
stein's Olympia during the acts, but he will 
join us for each of the entre-acts. 

{She takes up her opera glass, and examines 
the house minutely .) 

MISS BEEBAR. 

What is the opera? 


THE SMART SET 161 


MRS. MORLEY. 

Tristan and Isolde. I do n’t care for the 
new woman ; do you? Somehow she has n’t 
the soul for Wagner. She sings well enough, 
mechanically, but she does n’t feel enough. 

MISS BEEBAR. 

Precisely. That ’s a wig of course ; is n’t 
it ? And what an ugly one! 

MRS. STERNWALL. 

( Low to Mr . Easterfeltl) Come to-morrow 
at four. He has taken to leaving the office 
much earlier the last few days. 

{Owing to a sudden pause in the music , her 
voice has been heard quite distinctly . She is em- 
barrassed for a moment , to cover which she leans 
over toward Mrs. Morley and Miss Beebarl) 

I wish Eames sang in this, she wears such 
good clothes. 

MR. CARN. 

What ’s that about Eames? 


162 


THE SMART SET 


MISS BEEBAR. 

I thought Eames’ name would wake you 
up! 


MR. CARN. 

I was listening to the music. 


MISS BEEBAR. 

Do n’t be absurd ; you know you never 
come to hear the opera, except when I am 
going. 

MR. CARN. 

Or when Eames sings. 


MISS BEEBAR. 

Ah! you acknowledge it! You brute! 

MR. CARN. 

It ’s her arms, and her eyes, and her hair. 
You must acknowledge she ’s very beautiful — 

MISS BEEBAR. 

{Interrupts.) For heaven’s sake stop; you 
bore me to death. Besides you must listen. 


THE SMART SET 163 

It is n’t the thing to talk at the opera any 
more. 

( Isolde gives Tristan the cup with the love 
potion in it .) 

MRS. STERNWALL. 

(In a very low voice to Mr . Easter felt I) Just 
before the curtain falls change your position 
quietly. Go near Miss Beebar and Mrs. Mor- 
ley, on account of Henry. He will come to 
the box the minute the lights are turned up. 

MISS BEEBAR. 

(Very low to Mr. Cam.) I hate Eames ! 

MR. CARN. 

No. (He kisses , without sound , her hare 
shoulders.) 

( Tristan and Isolde approach each other with 
outstretched arms. For the first time Mrs. Mor- 
ley takes her gaze from the stage. It rests upon 
a dim figure in a certain seat in the Opera 
Club’s box. Her eyes are full of tears .) 



A Perfect Day 

A Leaf from the Diary of Mrs. 
Herbert Dearborn, Living 
in Paris 



THE SMART SET 


67 


May — , i8gj. 

A charming, delightful day! Marie brought 
me my coffee at nine, as usual, with a perfect 
mail. No nasty business letters from Amer- 
ica, but only most desirable invitations, notes 
full of gossip, and regrets from the Thomp- 
sons for the expensive dinner I felt obliged 
to give them at Armenonville , so I won’t have 
to give it ! One’s old friends in America 
are really rather a bother, coming to Paris 
in the very middle of the season. If they 
came only in midsummer, when every one is 
away, one would be very glad to do what one 
could, if one were in the city. Of course, as 
far as the Thompsons themselves are con- 
cerned, I love them. My coffee never tasted 
so deliciously, and Marie said I looked un- 
usually well after my night’s rest. To be 
sure Marie says that every morning ; but 
never mind, it is always pleasant to hear the 
first thing one wakes up, and I only wish I 
did n’t have a sneaking fear that the new 


THE SMART SET 


1 68 

Empire pink bed-hangings help a good deal. 
Marie sprayed the room with my new per- 
fume (a secret ; no one else has it), laved my 
face in rose-water, and then I had a wee 
little nap by way of a starter for the day. 
After my bath I answered my mail ; and 
then, Marie having manicured my nails, my 
toilet was made. I wore, to go out, my 
striking blue costume, with the hat and sun- 
shade to match, which always necessitates 
the greatest care with the complexion. I 
use an entirely different powder with this 
dress, and one has to be most careful about 
one’s cheeks. But Marie is invaluable so 
far as the complexion is concerned, and I 
went out quite satisfied. First, to the hair- 
dresser’s to have my hair re-dyed, as I went 
to the races in the afternoon, and the light 
there is very trying. Unless your hair has 
been dyed very lately it is quite useless to gd. 
My hair was never done so well. I am try- 
ing it a very little darker, and I am almost 
sure I like it better. Then I went into some 
shops. I think it is always a good thing to 
have one’s carriage seen waiting outside the 


THE SMART SET 169 

smart shops often. I priced a great many 
things, and had several — which I of course 
have no idea whatever of buying — sent home 
on approval. To the dressmaker’s, to try on 
my new dress. It was finished; but didn’t 
suit me. I am having entirely new sleeves 
and all the trimming changed. I persuaded 
them it was their fault. I had really thought 
I should like it that way until I saw it com- 
pleted. Then to breakfast with the Countess 

of ; a charming dejeuner . All the 

women very desirable to know and very 
chicly dressed, and not one looking so young 
for their age, I am sure, as I. In fact, sev- 
eral made that remark to me. I know they 
say just the opposite behind my back, but it 
is pleasant to hear nice things under any 
circumstances. I think it is all one should 
ask of people, that they should be nice to 
our faces. I left dejeuner first, because that 
makes a good impression, as if you are 
crowded with engagements, and flatters your 
hostess, who is naturally pleased to catch a 
much-sought-after guest. I really drove home 
to rest a little before the races. I find taking 


170 


THE SMART SET 


off everything and indulging in complete 
relaxation, if only for ten minutes, is wonder- 
fully refreshing, and saves lots of lines ! 
While I was resting my masseur came and 
gave me face massage. There is nothing 
like it for a wrinkle-destroyer. And the man 
is a rather nice person who amuses me. I 
got him two new clients at the luncheon to- 
day. As the other women said, one is only 
too willing to pay extra to get a man who is 
good-looking. 

The races were very exciting. It was a 
lovely day, our coach had a fine position, and 
our party was much stared at ! I had the 
most conspicuous seat, and did my best to be- 
come it. It is n’t for me to say to myself if 
I succeeded or not, but I owe it to my dress- 
maker to make the statement that no one 
else had on a better gown. I wish that state- 
ment was the only thing I owed him ! I 
won forty louis ; I do n’t know how. I am 
absolutely ignorant about horses. I only go 
because it seems to be the thing to do now. 
But I thought one of the jockeys looked 


THE SMART SET 171 

rather fetching, and so I put my money on 
him, and he happened to win. 

We all went for tea to Mrs. ’s, 

where one of the most expensive singers 
sang. But I did n’t hear her, because if you 
go into the music room you have to sit down 
in rows, and you do n’t see any of the people. 

I was obliged to hurry away, as my ap- 
pointment with Jacques to-day was for 6:30, 
and I wanted to stop at an imitation jeweller’s 
place in the rue de la Paix, where I had 
heard were some wonderful paste necklaces. 
They are quite extraordinary. I ordered one, 
and shall never tell a soul it ’s not real. I 
was late home, but Jacques, the dear boy, 
was waiting, and seemed to me sweeter than 
ever this afternoon. I gave him the cuff links 
I have had made for him, with his initials in 
rubies, and it was too delightful to see his 
pleasure. I took him out to dine. I think 
I will marry him. I know he is much 
younger than I, and all that, but he ’s so 
sweet, and, after all, I have enough money 
for two. 


* 







TheWestington’s “Bohemian 
Dinner” 

A Letter 



















THE SMART SET 175 


The Sherwood 

58 West 57th St. 

My Dear Dora: 

We are just home from dining in one of 
the smartest houses in New York, and I’ve 
been bored so wide awake I can’t think of 
going to bed, so I am sitting in my petticoat 
(that charming white silk, much-festooned, 
and many-flounced one you brought me over 
from Paris) and a dressing sack (pink, not so 
very unbecoming). My hair is down, but 
Dick does n’t paint it any more — it ’s getting 
thin, dear! — and I’ve nice little swansdown 
lined slippers over my best white silk-stock- 
ings. I ’ve worn to-night the best of every- 
thing my wardrobe affords, and I was n’t 
ashamed of myself! No, I was much more 
ashamed of the Westingtons, and I ’m going 
to tell you all about it before I touch the 
pillow ! I ’m sure you ’ll be amused. 

In the first place, to be honest, we were 
rather pleased to be asked. There is no 


176 THE SMART SET 

one smarter than the W.’s, and, besides, 
they are attractive and good-looking. The 
truth is, we ’ve always been anxious to go to 
their house — heaven knows why, now that 
we’ve been. We are sufficiently punished, 
however, for being so foolish as to be flat- 
tered by our invitation. For, my dear, we 
weren’t asked to a swell dinner at all; we 
were invited to what was intended for a 
u Bohemian ” affair (but it was only a dull 
and ungainly one), and it was apparently 
taken for granted that, as Dick painted and 
I had n’t millions, we were decidedly eligible. 
Of course, as you know, there is no such 
thing as a real Bohemia in New York. 

The dinner was given in honor (appa- 
rently) of the Hungarian pianist Romedek 
and his wife. He has been an enormous 
success here this year, and society has taken 
him up. But the trouble is with Madame 
Romedek ; no one is sure she is Madame 
Romedek, and a great many people are sure she 
is n’t. She is a pretty, rather common-look- 
ing person, with no particular intelligence 
or esprit. I am told she is more communi- 


THE SMART SET 


l 71 

cative under the table than she is over it; and 
I know some men are crazy about her. Of 
course, she is n’t a woman any of us can 
stand for a moment. If Romedek were a 
painter we should know she ’d been his model, 
and be awfully sorry for him. But Romedek 
is a musician (a great one — I wish you could 
hear him) ; and they say she has n’t even the 
social prestige or poetic license of having 
been an artist’s model, but of having been 
something quite wrong to begin with. Natur- 
ally, you see, some of society won’t have her 
at any price. Those that must have him have 
difficulty in entertaining them. I hear one 
prominent woman who was asked last week 
to dine and meet the Romedeks considered 
herself insulted, and has struck her would-be 
hostess’ name off her visiting list. So you 
see it was n’t all plain sailing with the West- 
ington’s, and I can hear them decide between 
themselves to give a “real Bohemian dinner;” 
that is, ask people who “ do things,” and whom 
you sometimes do meet out at houses where 
they are not particular about mixing — the 
kind of people who would probably not take 


178 THE SMART SET 

offense at being asked to meet Mrs. Romedek 
without having her marriage certificate for 
their dinner card. Of course, as you know, 
I do n’t mind being asked to meet anybody. 
Thank goodness ! I feel perfectly secure 
about my reputation, and also about my posi- 
tion, which is quite good enough to please 
me. But there is a difference in being asked 
to meet a questionable person because that 
person is brilliant, or beautiful, or talented, 
and that therefore you (belonging to the 
aristocracy of brains) will appreciate her, and, 
on the other hand, being asked to meet her 
because you are an artist’s wife and do n’t 
mind that sort of thing. We do mind it very 
much ! We do n’t even care for it in geniuses 
— only we overlook it in a genius; disregard it 
as not being our affair. But to be asked to meet 
a silly, loose woman with the idea that I won’t 
mind, almost as if I approved, I resent that. 

However, let me tell you who was there. 
On Mrs. Westington’s right, of course, sat 
Romedek, and he is very handsome and very 
charming, and I think at least Mrs. Westing- 
ton enjoyed her dinner if nobody else did. On 


THE SMART SET 


1 19 

Mrs. W.’s left was Mr. , who is, you 

know, a great swell here and who poses as 
being a fast patron of the arts and graces — 
especially the graces — after the pattern of a 
Frenchman who has his entree behind the 
scenes of the opera. His wife never accepts 
invitations that he does; they meet, you 
know, under their own roof, for the sake of 
the children — but under their own roof only. 
So in her place Belle Carterson was asked, 
who has gone in for keeping a swell florist’s 
place, and they say is making money. She 
is independent, and I like her, but of course 
it is considered by her friends in society that 
since she went in for business she can ’t re- 
fuse to meet anyone. Dick sat next to her, 

and had on the other side of him Mrs. , 

who likes celebrities without the knack of 
selection, and whose invitations nowadays I 
believe are never accepted at once, but are 
kept open as long as possible to see if some- 
thing better won’t turn up. Then came Mrs. 
Romedek and Mr. Westington; he looking 
bored to death, and she as if she did n’t know 
where she was at. Then Bobbie Lawsher, 


180 THE SMART SET 

who writes books and operettas and things — 
rather amusing he is, but becoming more and 
more of a snob every day. It ’s bad enough 
to see a woman straining every nerve to get 
into society, but when you see a man it ’s 
worse than ridiculous. I met him at a smart 
party the other night, and he stuck by me for 
hours, asking who everybody was till I lost 
my patience and told him I could n’t be a 
Blue Book for him or anybody, and he would 
either have to dance with me at once or go to 
some one else with his questions. I never 
knew any one who could bring in the names 
of as many smart people in one short remark 
as Bobbie can. If you happen to ask him what 
time it is, you could make a wager that, in 
his answer, in a perfectly natural way, he will 
mention familiarly three smart society women 
(calling one at least by her first name). Of 
course he does get asked a great deal, because 
he ’s little more than a snub-cushion — holds 
any amount of them as easily as pins. Be- 
sides he goes to afternoon bores, like Teas 
and At Homes and Days, for which free and 
untrammelled men can only be obtained by 


THE SMART SET 181 

subterfuge and trick or some extraordinary 
bribe. To a young man like Bobbie Law- 
sher afternoon affairs are a sort of happy 
hunting ground, a social grab bag, where he 
can never be sure there is n’t a dinner invi- 
tation, or one for the opera, or a luncheon, to 
be secured if one is clever and careful. Why, 
when a woman has a man guest back out at 
the last moment from a dinner, the first thing 
she does is to rush off to any At Home, 
that ’s going on, with the fairly confident ex- 
pectation of finding Bobbie Lawsher and 
making him fill her vacancy. Bobbie has 
accomplishments of a certain sort, can sing 
a pretty little song in a pretty little way, and 
can pass a tea cup without: spilling, and drink 
tea himself, and can hang around when he ’s 
wanted, and be got rid of easily when he 
is n’t. He is a sort of society errand boy, 
and very useful. I take it back about his 
having accomplishments — a better word for 
them is conveniences ! 

Well, on the other side of Bobbie was 

Mrs. , red in the face, so angry she 

was asked to meet Madame Romedek, talk- 


182 


THE SMART SET 


ing with poor Bobbie in a sharp, spasmodic 
sort of way, as if she were carrying on the 
conversation with her knife and fork, cutting 
the sentences into bits, some ignoring and 
some eating, — and none agreeing with her, 
or she agreeing with none. Then George 
Ringold asked, I suppose, for me. I am 
quite aware that women who are indiscreet 
themselves think there is u more than meets 
the eye ” between George and me. I am 
very fond of him, and so is Dick. And he 
has kissed me, and Dick knows it; but I 
am sure I need not tell you that is all. On 
the other side was Romedek, and perhaps I 
ought to feel complemented, but as, thanks to 
Mrs. Westington, we didn’t succeed in car- 
rying on to a finish any single conversation 
we started, I do n’t allow myself to be too 
flattered. 

Mrs. W. talked music, of course — the 
commonplaces of it — such as any well-bred, 
smart, educated woman of the world knows 
how to talk nowadays, with perhaps just one 
good, big, absurd mistake thrown in, — thus, 
by the grace of humor keeping banality from 


THE SMART SET 183 

becoming absolutely fatal. Madame Rome- 
dek was rather amusing. She tried to be the 
lady — which, as she does n’t know how, and 
only succeeds in being impossibly stupid, 
must have bored the men on each side of her 
tremendously. That ’s where foolish women 
of that sort spoil their own game. If they 
would make the best of the bargain, and be 
frankly a common cocotte gone right , they 
would certainly be more amusing, and might 
have something like success, at any rate 
with the men. 

The food was excellent, the wine good, 
the house lovely! And as soon after dinner 
as was at all decent, we left. We decided 
in the cab on our way home, from no point 
of view had it paid, — financially least of 
all; for our dinner in the restaurant, with all 
our jolly friends, would have cost us only 
seventy-five cents, while our cab bill for the 
evening was three dollars. As for having 
had a good time, there was only one person 
there who had that — Mrs. Westington her- 
self. I believe even the servants must have 
been bored by the dinner, unless, perhaps, 


184 THE SMART SET 

Madame Romedek flirted with them ; which 
I should think extremely likely. 

I am getting sleepy now, of which fact 
my letter undoubtedly bears u internal evi- 
dence.” So good night and sweet dreams to 
you, and none to me — I do n’t like them! 

Write me what you are doing in Paris. I 
am sure your husband will have his usual 
great success in the Champ de Mars. We 
are all very proud of him. 

With love, dear Dora, 

Guenne Barrows. 


The Gamblers 


I. Madame Eugenie Leblanche, veuve, 
age 62 years. 

II. Mile. Nina and Mile. Fifi. 

III. Mrs. Henry B. Gording and Mrs. 

Wm. H. Lane. 

IV. Mme. Borte and Mme. Lautre. 





: ' ■: ■ • 
























































































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* . . 










m 




















THE SMART SET 


187 


I 

The Baccarat Table in the Villa des Fleurs , 
Aix-les-Bains . 

MADAME EUGENIE LEBLANCHE, veuve. 

(. A large , stout lady in black satin and brocade , 
violet-colored face-powder , and a reddish blonde 
display underneath a questionable bonnet. She 
wears a somewhat profuse and miscellaneous 
display of jewels , principally diamonds dull as the 
eyes of dissipation. She holds her chips in large 
loose white cotton gloves that reach to her elbow. 
Her lips , compressed together , move constantly , 
with a sort of excited switch-back motion .) 

(To her self . ) I wonder who has the 
cards. Oh, it * s that monsieur there, I see. 
Not good ! I will only place two louis. ( She 
asks the gentleman in front of her to place 
them for her. He does m.) No, I am 
wrong, I will put three. ( She asks the gentle - 


88 


THE SMART SET 


man to place a third louis for her. In doing 
so the chip rolls from his fingers ; he imme- 
diately recaptures it and places it properly .) 
Monsieur, monsieur, if you please. Return 
me my louis, if you please ! I never play a 
louis that has rolled on the table. That 
would bring us bad fortune, you would see! 
Thank you, thank you very much. ( To herself 
again.) I am sorry I did not ask him to 
hand me back two. We are going to lose! 
Good heavens! it is sure we lose! Ah, 
the cards! Bad, that ’s sure ! O, what 
emotion! O good heavens! Seven! But 

the bank! No, we gain! O O good 

heavens! Good heavens! what emotion! 
We gain! What a misfortune I did n’t leave 
the extra louis! It is disgusting! I regret it 
now. O, I regret it very much! But it is 
always like that with me! Are we going to 
be paid ? I do n’t think so! No, we won’t 
be paid! It is always like that ; when one 
loses one is taken, and when one wins one is 
never paid! O good heavens! Now he 
will pay our side. After all there ought to 
be enough money. O yes, yes, we will be 


THE SMART SET 189 

paid! All the better! Two louis for me if 
you please, thank you. Monsieur, I am sorry 
to trouble you to give me my four louis! No, 
no, you have n’t given me enough! I put 
down two louis. O yes, you are right. Par- 
don me, I did n’t understand; yes, I have four. 
Thank you very much. You are very kind. 
( To herself again.') I am paid ! After all, I 
am paid! So much the better! What emotion! 
I will play two louis again ; no, three ; no, 
two; no, one must have courage. Mon- 
sieur, if you please, will you have the kind- 
ness to place my four louis on the table? 
Thank you very much! ( To herself again.) 
But, if I lose! and I will lose. Good 
heavens ! O what emotion ! ( Etc ., etc.) 


* 


190 


THE SMART SET 


II 

MLLE. NINA. 

( Young , very beautiful , in an exquisite gown 
from Laferiere , with gorgeous jewels and a won- 
derful hat.) 

Who is the banker ? 

MLLE. FIFI. 

( Equally charming , as magnificently jeweled , 
and as exquisitely gowned ; also a chapeau of won- 
derful birds , such as never sang in any wood.) 

He ? He is an old Russian. He has 
millions and millions, my dear! 

MLLE. NINA. 

[Raising her eyebrows and regarding the banker 
affectionately.) Really ? 

MLLE. FIFI. 

Yes, yes; and he is a perfect gentleman. 
He gave Lala of the Vaudeville three strings 


% 


THE SMART SET 


1 9 1 

of pearls in two days. He is very generous 
and altogether nice. 

MLLE. NINA. 

( 'Jealously .) Do you know him ? 

MLLE. FIFI. 

O no, my dear; he is not my style. You 
know I never like a gentleman who parts his 
hair on the left side. It ’s my fad. 

MLLE. NINA. 

( Very pleasantly .) Have you won to-night, 
dearie ? 

MLLE. FIFI. 

Ah, yes, my dear! Think ! two thousand 
francs already! 

MLLE. NINA. 

(Very sweetly , moving away .) So much the 
better. I ’ve lost like the devil. ( She very 
slowly makes a detour of the table in the direc- 
tion of the Russian banker. At the same time 
an elderly gentleman approaches Mile. Fifi and 
speaks to her.) 


192 


THE SMART SET 


LE MONSIEUR. 

Good evening, my dear ! 

MLLE. FIFI. 

Good evening, my pig of a Prince ! 

LE MONSIEUR. 

You have won ? 

MLLE. FIFI. 

Oh, but no , my dear! I have lost enor- 
mously! It is terrible what I ’ve done! I 
have lost nearly all I have ! 

MLLE. NINA. 

( Who has just arrived behind the banker , 
leaning over his shoulder and watching him win 
an enormous coup!) Ah, ha! You see, Mon- 
sieur, I bring you good fortune always ! 

THE BANKER. 

I did n’t know you were behind me, 
mademoiselle. ( He looks up. She smiles sweetly 
and innocently. He is pleased .) 


THE SMART SET 


193 


MLLE. NINA. 

Oh, yes, for a long time ! 

THE BANKER. 

You do n’t play? 

MLLE. NINA. 

( With a manner altogether modest, and a soft, 
low voice.') Oh, no ; never ! I have nothing 
to risk ; besides, it does n’t amuse me very 
much. I never play. 

THE BANKER. 

Put on that hundred francs just to try your 
fortune. 

MLLE. NINA. 

( Leaning over, takes the note from the pile.) 
If you wish it. ( She plays and wins ; brushes 
his cheek and shoulder with her arm as she reaches 
over to take up her money.) 

{The play continues .) 


x 94 


THE SMART SET 


MLLE. NINA. 

(Still winning .) You know you are very 
nice. ( She plays again with a note from the 
banker' s pile.) 


TH E SMART SET 


*95 


III 

MRS. HENRY B. gording, of Rochester , New 

York. 

Do you play ? 

MRS. wm. H. lane, of Brooklyn . 

No, not really. I do n’t quite approve of 
it, but I just try my luck once in awhile for 
amusement. 

MRS. HENRY B. GORDING. 

Yes, that’s exactly the way I feel. So 
long as you do n’t go in for it seriously I 
don’t see any harm. 

MRS. WM. H. LANE. 

And if you stop as soon as you begin to 
lose. 

MRS. HENRY B. GORDING. 

Yes, indeed! Oh my! are you putting 
one down ? * 


196 THE SMART SET 


MRS. WM. H. LANE. 

Yes, I think that man looks lucky over 
there with the glasses; besides I like him be- 
cause his wife sits right by him all the even- 
ing. 

MRS. HENRY B. GORDING. 

(i Smiling nervously and fumbling in her glove 
where she has concealed the money to have it con- 
veniently ready.) Put one down for me, too; 
will you ? ( She smiles hyst eric ally l) Dear me, 

I wonder what my husband would say if he 
could see me? 

MRS. WM. H. LANE. 

I do n’t know a single thing about the 
game; do you ? 

MRS. HENRY B. GORDING. 

( With two small red spots coming into her 
cheeks.) Not the slightest. It ’s finished ! 
I wonder who ’s won ! 


THE SMART SET 


*97 


MRS. WM. LANE. 

(After a long excited sigh.) I do n’t know. 
I never can tell till I see them either taking 
up our chips, or else paying us ! 

MRS. HENRY B. GORDING. 

( Breathlessly .) If I lose, I shall go. 

MRS. WM. H. LANE. 

So shall I ! We ’ve won ! 

MRS. HENRY B. GORDING. 

Ah! . 

MRS. WM. H. LANE. 

(Looking at least ten years older than she did 
two minutes before .) No, we ’ve lost ! 

MRS. HENRY B. GORDING. 


O! 


198 THE SMART SET 


MRS. WM. H. LANE. 

I ’m not going. I shall try once more ! 
MRS. HENRY B. GORDING. 

So shall I. 


MRS. WM. H. LANE. 

And I do n’t believe the woman is that 
man’s wife after all. If she had been we 
would n’t have lost our dollars ! 








THE SMART SET 


199 


IV 

MME. BORTE. 

( Leaning over a man s right shoulder for some 
gold on the tabled) ' I beg pardon; that is my 
two louis ! 

MME. LAUTRE. 

( Leaning over the man s left shoulder .) 
But no, madame, it is mine ! I put a louis 
down there ! 


MME. BORTE. 

No, no ! That is where I put mine. Give 
me my louis ! 


MME. LAUTRE. 

But you are wrong, madame ; it is my 
louis, and I shall keep it ! 

MME. BORTE. 

But no, madame ! 


200 


THE SMART SET 


MME. LAUTRE. 

But yes ! 

THREE WOMEN BESIDE MME. BORTE. 

Yes, madame is right. She certainly put 
a louis down there. 


THE SAME NUMBER OF WOMEN BESIDE MME. 
LAUTRE. ' 

No, it is the other madame who put the 
money down there. 


A MAN ON THE OPPOSITE SIDE OF THE 
TABLE. 


Ssss- 


UN MONSIEUR. 

Oh, the women ! the women ! — always 
rowing ! 

CROUPIER. 

Make your plays, gentlemen ! 


THE SMART SET 


201 


MME. LAUTRE AND MME. BORTE. 


( Together ; each to her own coterie .) Y ou 
know perfectly it is my louis; is n’t it? Oh, 
never in my life ! Never ! never ! 


( The game 
cuss ion.) 


continues , and so does the dis- 



PRINTED AT THE LAKESIDE PRESS, 
CHICAGO, FOR THE PUBLISHERS, 
HERBERT S. STONE & CO. CHICAGO, U.S. A. 



























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